Kindred Spirits
by Linndechir
Summary: Entreri's stay in Menzoberranzan has left him depressed and confused. After his enforced return to the city, he meets a drow who might help him to give his life a new meaning: Zaknafein, recently resurrected and just as aimless as Entreri.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the places in this story belong to me; and I don't make any money with this.

A/N: Concerning the timeline - this story is set after Starless Night and Siege of Darkness.  
Thanks to Chi for beta-reading. :-)

* * *

**Prologue**

Jarlaxle was working on a brilliant plan, that much was obvious to everyone who had seen him swaggering through the Bregan D'aerthe headquarters during the last days. His dazzling smile was even more ominous than usual, the clacking of his boots and the jingle of his jewellery sounded almost triumphant, and his visible eye showed this disturbing mixture of anticipation, glee and thoughtfulness that was a clear sign of another of the mercenary's daring plans.

The eccentric drow often met with his best wizard, a competent diviner, and after those meetings he seemed even more cheerful, but whatever he was up to, he kept it to himself and didn't share his plans with his lieutenants.

No, this was something personal, a private whim for which Jarlaxle had finally found some time, now that Menzoberranzan had calmed a bit after the failed raid on Mithral Hall. He paced excitedly through his office, recapitulating what he had learnt in the last weeks, and pondering what he could do concerning his current source of greatest interest: Artemis Entreri.

Jarlaxle hadn't seen the human since he had fled from Menzoberranzan with Drizzt and Catti-Brie, but the drow had scried on Entreri for the past few weeks. The assassin was staying in Silverymoon, earning some money with small, inconspicuous jobs, remaining in the shadows and avoiding attracting attention, and apparently not planning to return to his home city, Calimport.

Artemis Entreri had intrigued Jarlaxle since their first meeting several months ago. In the beginning, the drow had been mostly fascinated by the human's skill with his blades, his intelligence, his self-discipline - qualities that would fit a drow warrior. He had been amazed by the human's cold pragmatism that didn't go with his obsession with Drizzt, and he had enjoyed working with him, finding that Entreri was a great partner and ally during their hunt for Drizzt.

That alone wouldn't be reason enough for Jarlaxle to think about the human now instead of turning his attention to some Menzoberranyr intrigue. No, it had been the time they had spent together in Menzoberranzan after Vierna's death and the assassin's disastrous fight against the renegade that had truly sparked the mercenary's interest. Jarlaxle had witnessed how this calm, unbeaten fighter had been shaken by his defeat against Drizzt - because it _had_ been a defeat, even if Entreri had put the blame on his bad luck. And Jarlaxle had seen how the stay in Menzoberranzan had confused the distressed assassin even more, how it had shattered his view on the world and on his life.

Entreri, who had been feared and respected since he had been a very young man, had found himself defeated, insulted, humiliated. He, who valued his independence more than anything else, had been entirely dependent on Jarlaxle's protection. He, the greatest assassin on Faerûn's surface, had been imprisoned in a city where assassination was part of the everyday life, where he would never - no matter how powerful he was - be anything else than _iblith_, offal. This, combined with the humiliation of being defeated in combat, had broken something in Entreri, and although the man was a master at hiding his feelings behind a mask of cold professionalism, Jarlaxle had noticed his transformation: his increasing grumpiness and aggressiveness, the dull pain in his grey eyes that had replaced former pride, the sharp, snappish edge in his voice.

Menzoberranzan had taken something very important from Entreri without giving him anything else to replace it. The emptiness of his life had grown worse, or maybe the assassin had only then began to recognise it. Jarlaxle had seen the human's lack of orientation clearly when he had scried on him: Entreri didn't want - or wasn't able - to return to his old life as if nothing had happened, but he had no idea what else he could do with his life.

Jarlaxle had been wondering for some time about the assassin's past, about the reasons for his distrust and coldness, and about the possible ways to fill the hole that had always been in Entreri's life and that had been enlarged by the events in Menzoberranzan.

The drow knew that something had to be done, that Entreri couldn't go on like this, that he would do something stupid sooner or later, like drinking or killing himself or whatever these humans did when they were depressed. And it would be such a shame to see Entreri's skill and intelligence wasted like this, to lose a potential future ally! No, this was something the pragmatic mercenary could not accept, even less as he had come to like the man personally. To Jarlaxle, Entreri was amusing and fascinating, a challenge of a completely different nature than the usual intrigues among drow.

That was why Jarlaxle had been thinking so much about Entreri in the past weeks, and his scrying and pondering had finally brought him to a conclusion: Artemis Entreri's main problem was his loneliness. He was always alone, seeing the whole word as his enemy, refusing to trust anyone, even to speak with anyone normally. Most drow were not as distrustful and reclusive as this human!

To Jarlaxle, the solution seemed quite obvious: Artemis needed a close friend or, even better, a lover. Someone to talk to, to confide in, to give his life some meaning.

Yet at this point, Jarlaxle's scheming had usually ended in an impasse. Who could be a friend to Entreri, who would be accepted by the reluctant man? Certainly not Jarlaxle himself - he knew that Artemis couldn't stand his flamboyant manners nor would he ever trust him, and the drow himself had not the slightest interest in a serious, binding relationship. Jarlaxle preferred partners to friends.

But who then? Jarlaxle absolutely wanted to change the human's life and find him a friend, but first he had to think of someone who could be this friend.

And then Jarlaxle wondered how it was possible that he hadn't thought of this earlier! He finally realised why he liked Artemis Entreri so much - because the human was so alike to the best friend the mercenary had ever known. Finally he could think of a man who might be able to befriend Entreri, a man who would take care of him, a man who would understand him because their lives were so similar.

Well, had been, as the man Jarlaxle was thinking of was, unfortunately, dead, and had been so for decades. But Jarlaxle Baenre, who had been sacrificed to the Spider Queen once, would certainly not allow such a banal thing as death to cross his beautifully crafted plans.

* * *

Nights in Silverymoon were quite different from nights in Calimport. The beautiful city in the North was also rather busy at night, but not in the dark, threatening way of Calimport. Silverymoon seemed, despite being a city full of merchants, travellers and adventurers, peaceful and safe, whereas Calimport always seemed dangerous and menacing. Of course, there were criminals in Silverymoon just like in every town, but they weren't as omnipresent as in Calimport.

To Artemis Entreri, however, Silverymoon's beauty and calm were only a facade that hid the poverty and hypocrisy that were shown openly in his home city. He had no eye for the loveliness of the city, he was trapped in his thoughts - bleak, joyless thoughts.

The assassin walked through the broad, light streets, a dark figure that didn't seem to fit in, avoided by everyone, but taking care not to raise too many suspicions. He didn't want trouble, he only wanted to be left alone.

He returned to his tavern after a long, nightly promenade through the city, an idle walk without any other motivation than to get out of his small room. The tavern he had been living in for almost two weeks was proper and neat, but inconspicuous and not too expensive. Entreri didn't need big rumours going around about 'Faerûn's most dangerous assassin' being in town, and he had done his jobs almost anonymously and a bit sloppily - too perfect assassinations always raised suspicions about the assassin, thus Entreri had made everything look like the work of a decent, but not remarkable killer. Even his employers, mostly insignificant local criminals, didn't know who he was.

Unhindered by the innkeeper - he was paying well, after all - and the bar maids, who had understood by now that the rather handsome man had, unfortunately, no interest in them, Artemis went to his room, locking and trapping the door behind him. He sighed wearily and began to undress, but his instincts told him suddenly that something was amiss. He tensed again and rebuckled his weapon belt, furrowing his brow and scanning the room.

What had happened? Had some local underworld boss, or maybe a rich merchant or noble, learnt of his presence in the city and feared that Entreri had been sent by a Calimshite Pasha? Did, whoever feared him, try to kill him before he could kill them?

Although Entreri was a very calm man, he felt ill at ease when he couldn't hear or see anyone, but the feeling of not being alone didn't fade. His heart missed a beat when an impenetrable darkness enveloped him suddenly. He heard the clicks of several crossbows and felt a sting in his shoulder when one of the bolts hit him.

He drew his weapons immediately, but his senses were already getting blurry from the sleep poison, and he fell to the ground only a few moments later. His last thought before he fell asleep was that he truly hated drow more than anything else in this world.

* * *

Zaknafein Do'Urden was getting fidgety and impatient, sitting in a luxurious room, feeling alone and rather disoriented. He had woken up for the first time several hours ago - at least he supposed that it had been hours ago, but as he had no sense of time left, it could just as well have been minutes or days - with Jarlaxle sitting at his side.

Although he had been very confused then, he had been quite sure that this was rather odd. He should be dead after killing himself in his fight against Drizzt. Actually, one of Zaknafein's first clear thoughts had been to worry about his son.

Jarlaxle, who had been Zaknafein's only friend during his lifetime, had calmed the dizzy, troubled Weapon Master a bit, but the fighter had fallen asleep again before his extravagant friend had explained very much. When he had woken up again, a drow he did not know had brought him something to eat, telling him that Jarlaxle would return to him later.

After his meal, Zaknafein had just sat down on a big cushioned chair - the kind of chair Jarlaxle liked - and waited, mentally summing up the little Jarlaxle had already told him. Drizzt was alive and staying on the surface, while Malice and the rest of House Do'Urden were dead. Several decades had passed since his death in the acid lake, but now he was here, in the Headquarters of Bregan D'aerthe, under Jarlaxle's care. Things could probably be worse.

Strangely enough, Zaknafein felt rather good, especially for someone who had been sacrificed, turned into an undead, and obliterated by acid. He felt no pain, nor could he detect any scars on his body that hadn't been there before. Only his head hurt a bit, and even the dim light in the room stung his eyes.

Zaknafein supposed that he had slept for a while, because he didn't have to wait long for Jarlaxle. He hadn't decided yet if he was glad to be alive or not, but he definitely preferred to be alive and with Jarlaxle than alive and with Malice. Still, he didn't smile when the mercenary entered the room - no, bounced into the room - and sat down on a second chair with an exaggerated sigh.

"Ah, you're finally awake! I was really worried when you lost consciousness this morning, my friend," he said, and Zaknafein wished that Jarlaxle had a deeper, calmer voice.

"I probably got used to being unconscious," Zaknafein remarked dryly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Even though being alive felt, at least physically, really good, he was confused and not sure what he should think of his current situation. Suspicion was always appropriate when Jarlaxle was involved.

"That is not the right attitude, my dear Zaknafein! You're alive, you should smile and dance and -"

"I got your point," the fighter cut him short. He really didn't want to be snappish, but Jarlaxle's voice had such a shrill ring in it when he got excited, and right now Zaknafein needed calm explanations more than excited babble. "Why don't you tell me _why_ I am alive?"

The question seemed to calm the mercenary a bit. He fell silent and put a finger to his lips, pausing dramatically as if preparing a long answer, before he said, "I don't know."

Zaknafein was too dumbfounded to do anything else but stare at his unpredictable friend. Fortunately, Jarlaxle showed some mercy and continued, "A Bregan D'aerthe patrol found you in a tunnel not far from Menzoberranzan, unconscious but very much alive and uninjured. You were alone, naked, and there was no sign of a fight. As embarrassed as I am to admit this, but I have no idea why you are here. But we're working on it!"

The Weapon Master nodded slowly and eyed Jarlaxle suspiciously. The mercenary had been his friend for a very long time, and Zaknafein trusted him to some degree, but that didn't mean that he believed everything Jarlaxle told him - all the more as it was impossible to tell when Jarlaxle was lying and when he was telling the truth, if he ever did the latter. Yet Zaknafein decided that, for the moment, he had more important things to worry about than the exact reason why or how he had been resurrected.

"Where am I supposed to go, if House Do'Urden doesn't exist anymore?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"I am sure every House in this city would be glad to take you in, but I doubt that you want to go back to the kind of life you hated so passionately. You could finally join Bregan D'aerthe, at least until you have found a better solution," Jarlaxle said, smiling, and for a moment, Zaknafein wondered if all of this - his death, the fall of House Do'Urden, his return - had only been part of Jarlaxle's plan to make him join his mercenary organisation, but he decided that Jarlaxle wouldn't have waited so long to have him resurrected if he were behind all this.

"I'll think about it," he replied gruffly, but then an excited smile made it to his features. "Now tell me about Drizzt. You said he's alive?"

Jarlaxle made a face. Drizzt Do'Urden was the biggest problem of his whole plan - if Jarlaxle didn't influence Zaknafein's opinions in the right way, the often volatile fighter might just decide to kill his son's nemesis when they met instead of befriending him. Still, Jarlaxle told himself to be patient and satisfy Zaknafein's curiosity - it couldn't endanger his plans to tell his friend a bit about his beloved son. Actually, Jarlaxle loved to tell stories, all the more with such an attentive audience. And after that ... he would make sure that Zaknafein would be too occupied with someone else to think about Drizzt.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Cursing Jarlaxle once again, Zaknafein paced through the room, agitated like a caged animal. Patience had never been one of his strong points, and he had become more and more uneasy with each passing minute of the last hour - since Jarlaxle had left him here. Forcing himself to remain calm, he sat down on the chair beside the bed, turning his attention back to the human who slept there.

The drow didn't know enough humans to estimate this one's age, but he supposed that the man was in his prime: his features were too sharp and striking for a young man, but he didn't look old either. His black hair was dishevelled, his cheeks were dark with stubble, but Zaknafein didn't find him repulsive. On the contrary, the man intrigued him, but not because of his looks, but because of what Zaknafein knew about him.

This was Artemis Entreri, Drizzt's nemesis. The man who had tried to kill Zaknafein's beloved son more than once, who had fought him several times and was still alive.

Several Bregan D'aerthe soldiers had brought the unconscious human to the headquarters less than two hours ago, and Jarlaxle had been delighted to see his former associate again. And then he had told Zaknafein to stay with the man until he woke up. Zaknafein had, since then, tried to fathom why, and only his own curiosity had kept him from leaving the room and telling Jarlaxle to find someone else for such a pointless task.

In the three days since his resurrection, Jarlaxle had told Zaknafein much about his son, about the events of the last months, and consequently also about Artemis Entreri. The human's obsession with being the best fighter reminded Zaknafein of his lifetime rival, the recently killed Dantrag Baenre - killed by Drizzt, by the way, something that made Zaknafein very proud. Thus, the Weapon Master's first impression when he had heard of Entreri had been a rather negative one: another overly proud, haughty fighter, the only difference being that he was human and not drow.

Jarlaxle had changed this opinion almost immediately. He had told Zaknafein of his time with Entreri in Menzoberranzan, of the human's opinions on the city and the drow, of the few details he knew about his life as an assassin in Calimport. And although Jarlaxle had never even hinted that there were similarities between Entreri's and Zaknafein's lives and opinions, the Weapon Master had come to feel some sympathy for the human he hadn't known then, despite his rivalry with Drizzt.

Yes, Drizzt. Zaknafein had been so delighted to hear that his son was alive, that he had escaped from Menzoberranzan and from Malice, that he had found friends and maybe even a woman he loved. But while more details about Entreri had improved his view on the assassin, more details about Drizzt's life had made him rather sceptical. He had difficulties to imagine a drow living on the surface, and especially a drow living among humans and, even worse, dwarves! Zaknafein wasn't as racist as most drow - except towards his own people - but he still had many prejudices against other races. He had never seen himself as a particularly _good_ person, he was only less corrupt than most drow. Zaknafein was not sure what he should think of Drizzt being some kind of hero. And after all, about thirty years had passed since his death, since he had last seen his son - maybe Drizzt had completely changed.

Zaknafein sighed and shook his head - his thoughts had been turning in circles for the last days. He had been so busy thinking about his son and getting used to being alive that he had still not decided if he should be glad about his return or not. Certainly, his life had been a living hell, and he had hated it, but he couldn't bring himself to be angry about his resurrection. This was a completely new start, his new life might be different from the old one, maybe better. Not that Zaknafein was very hopeful, he was just sure that nothing could be as horrible as his old life.

But first things first. Jarlaxle had decided that he had to keep an eye on this human. And as Jarlaxle was, in a way, Zaknafein's new superior and the one who gave him a home, the Weapon Master wasn't really in a position to object - all the more as he knew that objecting never worked with Jarlaxle. And by now, Zaknafein had become very curious. Who was this man who had sparked Jarlaxle's interest so much? What was so special about him that his friend had decided that Zaknafein should meet him? The mercenary leader was certainly up to something, and usually that meant nothing good, but Zaknafein had to admit that he was intrigued. After all, Jarlaxle had never seriously hurt him. Among drow, that was indeed something special.

If Jarlaxle wanted him to meet Entreri, then he probably had his reasons to do so. Entreri's forced return to Menzoberranzan and Zaknafein's resurrection in such a short time couldn't be coincidental. The whole thing made Zaknafein suspicious, but he also felt a bit adventurous and curious - he could play Jarlaxle's game for a while, and if he didn't like it, he could still stop.

Zaknafein smiled for a split second when the human stirred finally, glad that he wouldn't have to wait any longer. Entreri groaned and opened his eyes a bit, squinting against the dim light. Sleep poison usually left the victim with a horrible headache after waking up.

However, Entreri sat up only a second later when he saw a drow from the corner of his eye, and his right hand darted towards his belt, searching for weapons that were not there. Zaknafein, having been warned by Jarlaxle that his human shouldn't be underestimated, immediately grabbed Entreri's shoulder and pushed him back on the bed, not wanting to get attacked by the assassin.

Entreri was surprised by the strength in the drow's arm, and the pain in his shoulder made him calm down. He was not stupid or desperate enough to attack a fully armed drow fighter without even a dagger, even less as he had no idea where he was or why.

The assassin scanned the room thoroughly before he turned his attention back to the drow. The room was simple, furnished with the bed he was lying in, two chairs and a small table, and there was only one door that was - of course - behind his guard. Entreri narrowed his eyes and stared at Zaknafein, probably trying to remember if he had already seen him during his last stay in Menzoberranzan.

Feeling how tense the human still was and fearing that his desperate situation might push him to do something stupid, Zaknafein said, "Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you." He tried to sound reassuring, but his voice had always been rather deep and brash and it tended to unnerve others, especially in combination with his rather imposing looks.

The assassin snorted - no, of course, there was probably no reason to worry for a human who had been captured by drow. Replying in drow - not because he liked the language, but because he knew that most drow barely understood common - he snarled, "Take your hand off me."

Not being used to so disrespectful words from a human, Zaknafein was just opening his mouth for a derisive retort when the door of the room was pushed open and Jarlaxle stepped in.

"We're not getting into a fight, are we?" the drow mercenary exclaimed and shot the two fighters his trademark smile. Zaknafein rolled his eyes, and for a second Entreri couldn't help it but feel a bit of sympathy for the Weapon Master.

For a second, before the reality of the situation crashed again down on him. He should have known that this had something to do with Jarlaxle - and working with Jarlaxle wasn't exactly something the assassin cared to repeat. It wasn't that he disliked the mercenary - actually, he respected him and hated him much less than almost everyone else he had met in his life - but working with Jarlaxle meant being in Menzoberranzan, the place in the world that the human loathed most.

When Zaknafein finally released him, Entreri quickly stood up, bringing as much distance between himself and the two drow as possible in the small room.

"Jarlaxle," he growled, now in common as he knew that the mercenary leader was fluent in the surface language. "Why does it not surprise me to see you here?"

"Maybe because we are in my headquarters?" the drow replied with a disarming smile. He seemed excited and overly cheerful, and that unsettled Entreri even more.

"I didn't ask for your hospitality," the assassin said, backing off even further.

"Now now, Artemis, you should be grateful to be here," Jarlaxle scolded him playfully, completely ignoring Entreri's death glare, "I saved your life, you know? Since Dantrag's and Uthegental's death, the position of Menzoberranzan's greatest fighter is vacant, and House Fey-Branche's Weapon Master would like to claim this title. Now, he needs to do something to earn it, and as he knows that he could hardly beat Drizzt Do'Urden himself, he decided to fight and kill 'Drizzt's equal' - that would be you. And he -"

Entreri had already stopped listening; he didn't even look at Jarlaxle anymore, but at the other drow. And if the mercenary's story wasn't absurd enough in itself, the fighter's doubtful, amused expression showed Entreri was not the only one to disbelieve it.

"Save your breath, Jarlaxle, and tell me why you brought me here," the assassin sighed, glaring again at his former associate.

Jarlaxle actually managed to put on an almost pouty expression and shook his head. "No, I invented this whole nice background story for you and you don't even want to hear it. You are hurting my feelings. Anyway, I'm certainly not going to tell you the truth. The truth is mostly boring and useless. Let's get to more interesting things, shall we?"

Entreri groaned, but he knew that there was no way he could make Jarlaxle tell him if Jarlaxle didn't _want_ to tell him. He hadn't even been awake for an hour and the horrible feeling of helplessness was already back. Jarlaxle, however, seemed to be having the time of his life. He beckoned the other drow, who sat still on his chair, to come over, and although Zaknafein kept a straight face, there was a slightly annoyed gleam in his eyes.

"Zaknafein, this is Artemis Entreri," Jarlaxle presented the assassin with an exaggerated gesture, then turned to him to give him the most innocent smile he could manage. "Artemis, this is Zaknafein Do'Urden."

Jarlaxle had to admit to himself that he was somehow impressed by the look on Entreri's face - the expression of utter hatred and anger, mixed with confusion and disbelief, made him uneasy for about half a second.

"Drizzt's father," Jarlaxle added, before he fell silent to observe the consequences of this little introduction - much like a child who had torn out a fly's wing and was now curious what the insect would do.

The assassin didn't answer, but resumed once again his examination of the other drow. He tried to see him in the light of this new revelation, but he couldn't find any resemblances between Drizzt and Zaknafein - he supposed that Drizzt had his mother's looks. Father and son were both quite attractive, but while Drizzt was so perfectly pretty that it was almost boring, Zaknafein was truly handsome, with features that were more striking and manlier than most drow's. Artemis decided to leave that train of thought before it led him to things he did definitely not want to think of, and just reminded himself that this was Drizzt's father.

"He's nice, actually, just a bit shy," Jarlaxle whispered in Artemis' ear when neither the assassin nor the Weapon Master reacted in some way. Zaknafein furrowed his brow at these words - he seemed suddenly very thoughtful, but also annoyed.

"I suppose that I am not needed any longer, now that you're here," the Weapon Master declared dryly and left the room, shutting the door behind him to make sure that he didn't hear his friend's potential answer. Jarlaxle frowned for a second before he smile lit up again. He had known that this wouldn't be easy - dealing with Zaknafein as well as dealing with Entreri had never been easy. But as he was still convinced that those two were made for each other, he was sure that they would find out about this in time.

"Where are my weapons?" Entreri's voice interrupted Jarlaxle's thoughts. The assassin looked more than uncomfortable - he felt almost naked without at least his dagger, and if he had to stay in this hell that was Menzoberranzan, then he needed weapons to defend himself against those damned drow. Jarlaxle hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded and smiled.

"You'll get them back, don't worry," he promised, earning another scowl from Entreri. Yet the human was too weary to argue with the drow and just slumped on a chair. He would try to find out more about Jarlaxle's motives and about possible ways to escape later, but right now, his head hurt so much that Entreri wondered if the crossbow bolt had been dipped in something more dangerous than only sleep poison. Jarlaxle's voice seemed to come from far away when the drow said something, and Artemis was too tired and frustrated to complain when the drow left him alone.

Entreri couldn't remember that he had fallen asleep, he only realised it when he was woken up by a knock on the door. Scratching his stubbly chin and noticing that he really needed to shave, he got up and stretched, ignoring the pain in his muscles from sleeping on a chair.

The door was opened before the assassin had asked his visitor to come in, and he was hardly surprised to see Zaknafein - Jarlaxle had obviously decided that it was entertaining to make his stay in Menzoberranzan even worse by sending Drizzt's father to him. A pity that Jarlaxle was usually the only one to enjoy his games.

Zaknafein walked over to the assassin and handed him, wordlessly, his weapon belt with the jewelled dagger and the drow sword Jarlaxle had given him months ago. Entreri virtually tore the items from the drow's hands, staring at Zaknafein in unhidden animosity. He didn't know much about Drizzt's past, but Jarlaxle had mentioned once, during their hunt with Vierna, that Drizzt's father had given his life to save his son from the House's Matron. So Entreri had assumed that said father had been, just as Drizzt, some kind of self-enamoured hero. But when he had met Zaknafein this morning, he had seen just a typical, cold drow warrior. Entreri wasn't yet sure which view on Zaknafein was more fitting, but he knew that he wouldn't like him in either case.

Drow and human stared each other in the eyes for several seconds, and Entreri was surprised when he discovered something new in Zaknafein's eyes, something that was neither Drizzt's unbearable smugness nor the usual drow callousness. Zaknafein's eyes seemed bitter and angry - it wasn't just an momentary expression, it was more the look of someone who had been bitter and angry for his whole life. What he saw in this moment reminded Entreri of what he saw when he looked into a mirror, and Zaknafein was apparently thinking the same, for he seemed suddenly embarrassed and turned away, almost hurrying out of the room.

"Zaknafein." The name had left Entreri's mouth before he had thought about it, or even thought about what he would say. The Weapon Master turned around, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

"What is Jarlaxle up to?" the assassin asked, glad that he had thought of a proper, sound reason to hold the drow back.

Zaknafein grinned and shrugged, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. His mood could apparently change in a matter of seconds. "How should I know? I might be insane, but I'm not insane enough to understand Jarlaxle."

The two shared another short second of mutual understanding, but Entreri's face remained calm. Still, he had to acknowledge that Zaknafein was the first drow, apart from Jarlaxle, who talked normally to him, who hadn't ignored or insulted him just because he was _iblith_. And, at least at first sight, Zaknafein's behaviour didn't even remotely resemble Drizzt's either, and to Artemis Entreri, that was a big relief.

"Should you not be dead?" Entreri asked. Information was always important, especially in a situation like this when he knew nothing and every little detail he could learn might be crucial. He knew that he wasn't being very considerate and polite in his questions, but Zaknafein didn't seem to care. He looked rather amused.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. Yes, I should, and actually I _was_ dead until recently. If you're wondering why I am back, ask Jarlaxle, he'll probably give you an answer as useful as the one he gave you when you wanted to know why you're here," Zaknafein said, a thoughtful but also mysterious ring in his voice. He looked again into Artemis' eyes, then chuckled as if to break the tension between them. This time he left the room before the assassin could hold him back.

Artemis was even more confused after this strange encounter than he had been before. Too much had happened on one day to his liking - as if being abducted by drow and brought to Menzoberranzan and Jarlaxle for no apparent reason wasn't already enough, he had to meet the rather confusing father of his greatest enemy. And Zaknafein was, in his own way, as unusual as Jarlaxle: far from being an average, ruthless drow, he seemed more ... 'human', yet his demeanour left no doubt that he was powerful and could be as cruel and efficient as any other drow. But while Jarlaxle was startling with his perpetual good humour, with his beaming smile and his excited chatter, Zaknafein seemed more unsteady, as if his friendliness and amusement could turn into violent aggressiveness only a second later.

Zaknafein was by no means a normal drow, that much was clear to Artemis even after their short conversation. And his way of being different was, to the assassin, far more agreeable than Jarlaxle's and Drizzt's - Jarlaxle's extravagant behaviour got on Entreri's nerves, and Drizzt was just an unsupportable, self-righteous hero. But Artemis felt a strange sympathy for Zaknafein, and he wasn't sure if he liked this feeling.

The assassin snorted suddenly and scolded himself for his stupid thoughts. He had spent only one day in the drow city, without even leaving his room, and he was already becoming unreasonable. The mere prospect of staying in Menzoberranzan was obviously already wearing him down if he felt sympathy for a drow just because said drow hadn't insulted him.

Yet he couldn't help but wonder about Jarlaxle's reasons for bringing him down here and presenting him Drizzt's father as soon as he woke up. And then Zaknafein's last words before leaving ... Artemis decided that he needed to talk to Jarlaxle as soon as possible. Whatever game the eccentric drow wanted to play this time, Artemis Entreri had certainly no intention of being a part of it.

He just feared that Jarlaxle didn't care about his intentions.

* * *

A/N: I know, it's mentioned in RotP that Jarlaxle betrayed Zaknafein, so he probably _did_ hurt him. Let's just say that this story is not only _set after_ Starless Night, but that it's also AU for (almost) everything we learnt about Jarlaxle's and Artemis' past in the later novels. 


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Not for the first time in the last two days Zaknafein found his attention drawn to Entreri. The human stood in a corner of one of the biggest caverns in the Clawrift, leaning against the stone wall and eyeing his surroundings suspiciously. He obviously tried to ignore the disdainful glares and taunts of the passing Bregan D'aerthe soldiers, but Zaknafein noticed his clenched jaw and the angry gleam in his eyes. Jarlaxle had apparently provided him with some magical item that granted him infra-vision, for his eyes were as red as a drow's.

The Weapon Master had already seen Entreri on the previous day in front of Jarlaxle's office. The human had wanted to speak to the mercenary leader - just like Zaknafein had intended to - but the guards had turned him away explaining that Jarlaxle was too busy with an important plan. But as Zaknafein had spent much time in the Bregan D'aerthe headquarters in the past he knew enough about the everyday life of the mercenary organisation to recognise that the soldiers weren't preparing for some big enterprise.

Yet why did Jarlaxle so obviously lie to them, why had he appointed neither Entreri nor Zaknafein to any task and why did he avoid both of them? The Weapon Master had grown more and more suspicious about Jarlaxle's plans for the assassin, but also for himself.

As a consequence, Zaknafein was at the same time bored and curious, and in his current state of unemployment observing this human assassin was probably the most interesting thing he could do.

He hadn't talked to Entreri on the previous day, however; he had been too busy day-dreaming of killing priestesses. He had sometimes days like this, when he could hardly think clearly, but it didn't unsettle him - those fits of anger usually passed rather quickly. This day he felt much calmer, and boredom got the better of him. Considering the alternatives - doing nothing, trying in vain to find Jarlaxle, or spending his time with some average drow soldiers - speaking with a grumpy, distant human seemed almost appealing, although he _knew_ somehow that he was doing exactly what Jarlaxle wanted him to do.

When Zaknafein approached Entreri, the other drow suddenly left the human alone - most had already heard of the Weapon Master, some had even been among his students at the Academy. Thirty years were not so much for the long-living drow, and Zaknafein's reputation of being as volatile as he was powerful hadn't completely vanished yet.

Entreri met the drow with a suspicious glare, obviously not at all reassured by his relaxed demeanour.

"Jarlaxle has no use for you either, does he?" Zaknafein asked with a grin and leaned against the wall near the human. He spoke a bit slower than usual, having already noticed that while Entreri was almost fluent in drow, he had difficulties when someone talked too fast.

"Then he should have left me alone," the assassin growled curtly. His accent and the deep human voice mingled to a rather exotic ring Zaknafein found, to his surprise, quite fascinating.

"I can understand your frustration. I hate this city as much as you, and I am drow and not considered to be _iblith_," Zaknafein sighed, hiding his smile when the human cast him a doubtful glance. "Tell me, Entreri ... about you and Drizzt. What is your rivalry really about?"

This question had preoccupied Zaknafein since he had heard of Entreri - he was intrigued by the link that existed apparently between his son and this human. He had learnt at a young age that someone's enemies could reveal the most interesting things about the person in question. And as Zaknafein longed to find out more about his son, he certainly wouldn't let this opportunity pass by.

The mere mention of the renegade made Entreri tense, and hatred flickered through his eyes.

"What, do you want to hear how good and great your son is, and how evil I am because I fought him?" he snorted. "If there is anything I don't want to talk about, it's him."

"Calm down. I was paying you a compliment, assuming that you were above petty rivalries about who is the best fighter, and you snap at me," Zaknafein said, but Entreri was unable to tell if the drow was mocking him or not.

"His way to live is an open insult to my discipline, to everything that is important to me. In his opinion I am a cruel, ruthless villain who deserves death. You should know that your dear son is a self-declared hero, convinced that he has to fight evil. And of course he decides what is evil, for he is able to judge everyone he meets. He knows nothing."

Entreri's voice was thick with hatred and disdain, and Zaknafein was surprised by this almost passionate declaration from the seemingly callous assassin. And although the drow tried to remain sceptical about Entreri's words, he couldn't help but wonder what his son had become.

They were silent for a while, each one lost in their thoughts, until Entreri suddenly asked, "Why did you sacrifice yourself for him? You seem too reasonable for such foolishness."

The question embarrassed Zaknafein more than he cared to admit, because it was a question that led to a rather unpleasant answer. He hesitated for a moment before replying.

"When I did it, I was convinced that I was doing something very noble - saving the son I loved, the one who might be able to do what I could not and leave this hell. Well, that certainly was a reason ... but I have pondered much about this since my resurrection, and I think now that I was just tired of my life. A drow's survival instincts are usually too strong to kill himself, but I gladly welcomed a situation in which I could get rid of my life without having to do it myself. I assure you, four hundred years in this city can even wear a normal drow down, let alone someone like me."

Entreri was dumbfounded by this long, honest answer, as he had hardly expected anything more than a self-righteous declaration of having done the right thing or something along these lines. He had expected something Drizzt could have said, not something so ... understandable. He stared at Zaknafein as if he tried to detect a lie in his eyes, yet the Weapon Master seemed perfectly honest. Although Entreri knew better than to believe a drow, he felt some sympathy for him. He hadn't even spent a year in Menzoberranzan before contemplating suicide, or at least a suicidal attempt to leave the city.

"Someone like you," he echoed. "That means?"

"Someone who has recognised this city for what it is, just like you have. We both see the potential that lies here, wasted on petty rivalries and even more on this spider bitch they worship," Zaknafein sneered, and his voice virtually dripped with bitterness. The drow's right hand was clenched around the hilt of one of his twin swords.

If Entreri hadn't already been convinced that Zaknafein was different from his fellow drow, he would have been now. He had never heard any drow - not even eccentric, powerful Jarlaxle - speak like this about Lolth and her priestesses.

"How did you survive here for four hundred years?" he whispered in disbelief, too intrigued to feign indifference.

"By being the best fighter, pleasuring my matron and taking more beatings than almost everyone else in this city," Zaknafein replied, and a bitter laugh escaped his throat when Entreri made a disgusted face. "Don't be shocked, Entreri. All drow are whores, in one way or another. The females are selling their souls to the spider bitch, the males are selling their skills and their bodies to the priestesses. You didn't think that Drizzt was sired in a loving relationship, did you?"

Zaknafein grinned, but his eyes gleamed so angrily that Entreri feared for a second that the drow might lose his temper and simply attack him. Not that he had any reason to do so, but in this moment he seemed almost insane, like he could attack anyone around him in an uncontrolled outburst of anger. And as confident as Entreri was of his fighting skills - he certainly didn't want to defend himself against the man who had trained Drizzt. If Drizzt was his equal, Zaknafein would probably cut him down easily.

But strangely enough, the idea that Zaknafein might be a better fighter hardly offended him - maybe because Zaknafein's personality and behaviour didn't offend him as much as Drizzt's. Entreri recalled what he had seen in Zaknafein's eyes two days ago, and he thought that Zaknafein had more in common with him than with Drizzt. Was this the reason why he had so openly answered the drow's question? Was Zaknafein's frankness caused by a similar feeling of ... familiarity? The mere thought made Entreri very uncomfortable. It was simply wrong to think of Drizzt's father as ... as what? Someone who could maybe understand him? A potential friend?

The dangerous gleam in the Zaknafein's eyes disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a rather amused smile.

"Why don't we continue our little conversation elsewhere?" Zaknafein asked, annoyed by the curious looks of the drow soldiers around them. Artemis was getting more and more confused - he was usually able to read people, to recognise their motives and goals. Jarlaxle had been one of the few people who remained a complete mystery to the assassin, and while Zaknafein was less mysterious, he was just as confusing. Despite his feeling of sympathy for him, the drow's sudden changes of mood, the mixture of mischievousness and barely retained aggressiveness bewildered Entreri, all the more as he had no idea why Zaknafein was bothering with him. He had hinted that he was, like Entreri, just a pawn in Jarlaxle's newest game, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy said game.

"Why should I want that?" the assassin asked warily.

"Because I am the only person here who is willing to talk to you, with the exception of Jarlaxle, who is making himself quite scarce at the moment. And I assure you from centuries of experience, too much time spent alone in Menzoberranzan would drive the most reasonable man insane," the drow replied with a joyless chuckle.

"And why should _you_ want that?"

Zaknafein didn't answer immediately, but proceeded to stare at the human, until he suddenly turned around and started to walk away. Entreri already wondered if he had somehow offended the volatile fighter, but Zaknafein stopped after only a few steps and looked back over his shoulder.

"Because I am curious and ... I like you," the drow said as stiffly as if he had just been forced to admit something highly embarrassing.

Entreri was speechless for a moment, but then he reminded him hesitantly, "I tried to kill Drizzt."

"So did I," Zaknafein replied and shrugged, as if trying to kill Drizzt was the most normal thing in the world.

Not exactly knowing why he did it, blaming the bad influence this city had on him, Entreri followed the Weapon Master. The chuckling he heard behind them, however, troubled him quite a bit, especially when Zaknafein's first answer to his questioning glare was to chuckle as well.

"They think that I'm going to have some fun with you," the drow explained, and his dirty grin left no doubt about the nature of said 'fun'. Entreri froze in place, but Zaknafein just laughed. "Don't worry, I have no intention to touch you. And even if I had, I wouldn't be stupid enough to hurt Jarlaxle's newest toy."

The assassin snorted at these words, but he followed Zaknafein - it was true that being Jarlaxle's associate protected him, and Zaknafein hadn't at any time looked at him with an expression that spoke of such intentions.

Zaknafein led him to one of several meeting rooms in the Clawrift. Drow rarely invited anyone to their private quarters, and if a conversation didn't require highest privacy, these public rooms served the Bregan D'aerthe members quite well. The room was empty, granting them a reprieve from all too curious glares.

"You know, I'm getting worried," Zaknafein said after an uncomfortable silence when they had sat down on the cushioned chairs. Entreri arched an eyebrow in surprise, wondering what in the Nine Hells the Weapon Master was _now_ talking about.

"The last time Jarlaxle had some stupid plan for me I got almost killed by a hysterical high priestess who -" Zaknafein stopped suddenly and shook his head. "No, I really don't want to remember that. What I want to say is -"

"- if Jarlaxle thinks it's amusing, it will be annoying for everyone else," Entreri continued for him without even thinking. Zaknafein stared at him as if he had just seen a ghost, his eyes filled with a confusing mixture of shock and bewilderment that made Entreri wonder if he had said something wrong. The drow was silent for a moment until he smiled suddenly.

"True. We shouldn't let him play with us like this," Zaknafein said with a tiny, almost cruel smile. "It can't be coincidence that we're both here."

"You said yourself that Jarlaxle wouldn't explain himself to us," Artemis objected, although he had to admit that it filled him with a small shred of relief that he wasn't the only one who suffered from Jarlaxle's games. On the other hand, maybe Zaknafein was Jarlaxle's partner in crime here, in which case Artemis should stay away from the drow as much as possible.

"Then we'll have to make him talk," the Weapon Master replied, caressing one of the sword hilts on his belt. Artemis furrowed his brow for a moment, doubting that they could outthink or outfight the clever mercenary leader, but even Jarlaxle could be hurt ...

He definitely deserved it.

* * *

Sitting on his chair in his office, Jarlaxle laughed so hard that he nearly fell over. This was just too beautiful - his dear friends intending to plot against him, even if more in jest than seriously, not knowing that they were doing exactly what he wanted them to do. Jarlaxle knew that it might be imprudent to make himself the common enemy of two men as dangerous as Artemis and Zaknafein, but he was confident that his little plan would work out perfectly.

"I don't know why we are wasting our time on this," a soft, but cold voice interrupted his thoughts, and a slender hand waved to end the scrying spell that had allowed them to observe the human and the Weapon Master.

Jarlaxle turned on his chair to look at his newest lieutenant, a young, handsome drow male. He had been working with the psionicist for some time and recently saved him during the destruction of his House. Kimmuriel had been a most valuable acquisition for Bregan D'aerthe - intelligent, ruthless, powerful and more or less loyal. But the young drow obviously couldn't appreciate such subtle forms of entertainment.

"You brought back the city's best Weapon Master, you sent a patrol to the surface to abduct the human - you went through much trouble to acquire these two and now you don't use their abilities. Why not?" the psionicist inquired.

"I'm doing two old friends a favour," Jarlaxle explained with a wink, and when he saw Kimmuriel's frown he added, "But I assure you that this will be, in the long term, quite profitable. You're right, those two will be useful for Bregan D'aerthe, but not in their current state. They're both full of potential, and I am making sure that they're going to develop it once they've got rid of their ... problems."

Kimmuriel just shook his head, running a hand through his long hair. "That doesn't make any sense, Jarlaxle."

The mercenary leader sighed deeply, but he didn't say any more. Of course Kimmuriel didn't understand - he was intelligent, yes, but as limited as most drow. But Zaknafein and Artemis were so much more ... complex, so much more promising. Jarlaxle supposed that this was the reason why he liked them so much and why he wanted to help them - in his own twisted way. If that meant meddling with their lives against their will, so be it. Jarlaxle was convinced that it was for their best.

He stood up and smiled at Kimmuriel. "Never mind. Now tell me, how do our plans to acquire that cleric from Ched Nasad progress?"

"We're doing fine. Your meetings with the other Matrons were very successful - they are convinced now that House Bondalek is a danger for all of them, and it will probably be destroyed in the next week," Kimmuriel answered as calmly as if he was talking about the most trivial thing. "We just have to wait for them to strike, and to make sure that this Rai-Guy survives."

Jarlaxle nodded happily. Rai-Guy would think that Bregan D'aerthe had saved him from certain death - no noble male could survive the destruction of his House - without knowing that there wouldn't have been a coup against his House had it not been for Jarlaxle's intervention.

"I hope you're not going to waste his abilities like Zaknafein's and Entreri's, or is he just part of your strange plan for those two?" the psionicist asked suddenly, frowning so deeply that Jarlaxle felt almost like this young drow was scolding him. The thought made him chuckle, even more when he tried to imagine what Zaknafein would probably do to a cleric of Lolth.

"Don't worry, Rai-Guy isn't here for my or their entertainment, but to work for us. Although he might be able to entertain you a bit," Jarlaxle explained with a wink. Kimmuriel was capable, yes, but he was too much of a loner and not very talented for teamwork. Maybe working with a lieutenant of equal power would teach the psionicist something.

"Yes, certainly," Kimmuriel snorted. "I don't mind working with that cleric once he's here, if it is really necessary, but please make sure your two new pets don't get on my nerves. It's bad enough to have some stinking human down here even if you don't have to see him."

Jarlaxle didn't reply this time and just watched the psionicist bow and leave. He turned back to his desk and stared at the now black scrying pool, still intrigued by his plans. Artemis and Zaknafein were definitely progressing - Jarlaxle could only hope that the price for this progress wouldn't be his health and well-being. Maybe Kimmuriel was right and he really needed to find some occupation for them before they could go through with their plan of turning against him - with those two one could never know if they didn't get really angry and serious.

The mercenary leader sighed and got up to leave his office. Jarlaxle wouldn't be Jarlaxle if he neglected business for his private whims. He had to meet with his associates in Ched Nasad first before he could continue to rearrange his friends' lives, even if the latter was probably the most exciting project he had worked on for some time.

If he didn't hate Lolth so much, he would have thanked her for bringing Artemis Entreri into his life.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

"Ched Nasad? What is he doing in Ched Nasad?" Artemis snarled, his tone almost outraged.

Zaknafein shrugged, sitting down on a chair in the meeting room and looking up at the human, who was standing before him, virtually radiating frustration. For two days had they tried to find Jarlaxle, in vain, and Zaknafein had just now learnt from one of his lieutenants that the mercenary leader had left for Ched Nasad precisely two days ago.

"I have no idea. Maybe he needs a bigger playground for his madness," Zaknafein sighed, calmer than the assassin, but still quite annoyed. They were both growing more and more frustrated and impatient, despite the fact that their respective companionship had kept them from being completely alone. So far they were getting along, but there was an uneasy atmosphere of wariness and distrust between them. Neither seemed to know what to think of each other, and this strange kind of sympathy they both felt didn't make things easier.

"Even Jarlaxle shouldn't get bored with us so quickly," Artemis grumbled, sitting down as well. His hands were clenched into fists, and his calm facade couldn't disguise his anger. Zaknafein couldn't blame him. While he himself could see something positive in the events of the last days - he was alive again, after all - the human was in a humiliating, dangerous situation that had brought even more disorder into his already disordered life. Considering the circumstances, Artemis was impressively composed.

Zaknafein studied the assassin thoughtfully, not quite sure what to do. They didn't really have anything to talk about: both were too reluctant and wary to chat about their past or their thoughts, they had already spent the last two days complaining about Jarlaxle, and both of them carefully avoided speaking about Drizzt after their last conversation, which had angered Entreri and embarrassed Zaknafein.

Zaknafein was unable to identify what he felt when being with Artemis. He was by no means bothered by the human. In a way he almost liked being near him. But there remained this distinct tension between them, probably caused as much by countless unresolved problems each of them was carrying around as by the other's presence. Since their first serious conversation two days ago, both of them had almost instinctively sought the other out again, as if it was the most natural thing to do, but they hadn't really known what to do together. Consequently they had spent most of the time in an awkward silence neither of them had been able to break.

And this silence was starting to get on Zaknafein's nerves. Thus a slight grin made its way to his face when an idea came to his mind after several moments.

"What do you think of a little sparring match?" he asked lightly, never taking his eyes from Entreri's face in order to read his reaction.

Artemis stared at Zaknafein with narrowed eyes, obviously not sure about the drow's intentions. The human couldn't help but fear that Zaknafein was simply looking for a chance to humiliate him - he was drow, after all.

"You're full of pent-up aggression, and I haven't sparred at all since my resurrection. We could both use some exercise," Zaknafein explained when he didn't get an answer, still with a relaxed grin on his face. Artemis actually found this insanely jolly expression far scarier than the drow's scowl.

"What's the point? You will beat me anyway," the human replied with a defensive snort. He was quite sure that Zaknafein, even without much exercise, was the better fighter, and he didn't want another defeat that would weigh him down even more.

"So what? We're not talking about a fight to the death here, just about a little sparring," Zaknafein urged, now rather impatient. He quickly got up, and the prospect of getting attacked by a bored drow warrior was enough to make Artemis stand up as well. To be honest, he was missing some physical exercise as well.

Zaknafein didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that they were still in the meeting room - there was enough space for a little fight, at least for two warriors who were relying on dexterity rather than on brute force. Drawing his twin swords in a swift motion, he hardly waited for the human to get ready before he attacked, each move executed with a surprising mixture of force, experience and nimbleness. Finding himself on the defensive Artemis needed barely more than a few seconds to realise that Zaknafein was indeed a far better fighter than Drizzt - and Artemis himself. The drow didn't really press on, confining himself to routine attacks and average feints the assassin managed to fend off, but while Artemis found himself in a battle that asked for every single bit of his attention, Zaknafein seemed quite relaxed.

Still, Artemis realised to his surprise that he actually enjoyed the fight. He had rarely in his life _sparred_ with anyone - every fight had been serious for him, a matter of life and death, not of training. It was an interesting experience to cross blades with such an exquisite opponent without having to worry, knowing that there was no real danger. Not that he trusted Zaknafein, far from it, but he doubted that the drow would have waited so long if he intended to kill him.

Zaknafein stepped back after a few minutes, lowering his weapons and grinning at Artemis. A few drops of sweat glittered on his front, but his eyes gleamed in excitement and even pleasure. Artemis was surprised to notice that something like a hesitant grin made it to his own face. They looked each other in the eyes for several seconds, and for once the silence between them was rather comfortable - until Zaknafein's face turned suddenly very serious.

"You're too tense," he stated in the calm tone of a teacher correcting his student.

"Excuse me?" Artemis' grin vanished in the blink of an eye, replaced by his customary frown. Not only that Zaknafein's changes of mood and of subject still confused him, but it annoyed him deeply that the drow dared to criticise him. He wasn't some drow fledgling that needed advice on his fighting techniques!

"You're too tense," the Weapon Master repeated without missing a beat. "You would be much quicker and more agile if you weren't so tensed up."

"That's among the most stupid things I've ever heard," the assassin growled, clutching his weapons more firmly. He had always taken pride in his self-discipline, his complete control over his body - how should anybody fight without being tense?

"What I mean is not that you are too tense in battle, but that you're always too tense. You're tense like someone who never relaxes, and that's your problem. This constant tension makes you lose your speed," Zaknafein explained almost patiently. "Take a hot bath, allow yourself a long massage and get a pretty playmate for one night, and you'll see."

"You're a better fighter than teacher," Artemis snarled, raising his weapons and resuming their fight, pressing Zaknafein hard to make him shut up. Such things would only make him weak, and yet somehow Artemis knew that Zaknafein's words weren't entirely wrong: didn't he sometimes really feel too tensed up and unable to relax?

"What about Drizzt then?" Zaknafein teased, ducking down under an angry, forceful slash aimed for his shoulders. Artemis had difficulties to keep his composure and remind himself that they were only sparring, but he forced himself to calm down quickly enough, ignoring the annoying voice in his head which told him that the drow was right. Fortunately, Zaknafein had the decency to drop the subject, continuing their fight in silence.

They were so absorbed in their relentless exchange of attacks, parries, and counterattacks, that they didn't notice immediately that they weren't alone anymore. Consequently, they were quite surprised when a far too familiar voice interrupted them.

"Oh, wonderful, you're keeping in shape," Jarlaxle stated happily, his boots clacking loudly when he entered the room and smiled at his so-called friends. "It's quite impressive to watch you two."

Both Artemis and Zaknafein had to struggle to keep their weapons down instead of running the unbearable mercenary leader through, something that Jarlaxle noticed of course. It actually disconcerted him for a second to face two of the most capable fighters of the Realms with raised weapons and anger burning in their eyes. Yet Jarlaxle was hardly someone to be afraid of anyone in his own head quarters, especially when he was accompanied by several loyal soldiers who were standing just behind him.

"Now, don't look at me like that, my dear friends," Jarlaxle continued, still smiling and plopping on a chair. "And sheathe those weapons, will you? Where have you left your manners?"

Zaknafein considered for a second to use said weapons to cut Jarlaxle's throat, but he doubted that he would get even near the mercenary leader. Still obviously angry, he sheathed his swords, seeing from the corner of his eye that Artemis had apparently come to the same conclusion.

"Have a seat," Jarlaxle said amiably, still with the most innocent expression on his face, despite the fact that the assassin and the Weapon Master didn't stop glaring at him when they sat down. "I'm glad to see that you two like each other."

"We don't like each other, we were just sharing fantasies about killing you slowly and painfully," Artemis hissed in common, but Zaknafein had apparently understood him as well, because he smiled cruelly.

"Well, that's much better than if you were having fantasies about killing each other," Jarlaxle replied nonchalantly, ignoring the human's death glare and Zaknafein's just as intimidating gaze. "I'm sorry for my absence during the last days; business, you know? But now I'm back, and I have a wonderful job for you. I promise, you'll like it. It involves killing a priestess."

Zaknafein couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in anticipation at these words. After everything that had happened to him at the end of his life, his hatred for Lolthian priestesses had grown even more. Artemis, however, kept a straight face, and Zaknafein had the distinct impression that he could physically _feel_ the human's anger.

"Perfect, that's the Zaknafein I remember!" Jarlaxle exclaimed before continuing excitedly. "The priestess I'm talking about is from an insignificant House, but she has quite a few connections at the Academy. Unfortunately, she sells information about Arach-Tinilith to whoever pays enough, which is why I was charged with getting rid of her. Yet she has very cleverly survived every customary method of assassination so far, and so I have to ask you to take care of this. Physical violence is your specialty, isn't it? You'll just have to ambush here when she meets one of her clients, disable her guards and do what you do best."

"Sounds too easy," Zaknafein objected suspiciously, although there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He felt a beautiful tingle in his fingertips when he remembered the last time he had killed a priestess, the complete bliss of the moment when his sword had sliced her open, the wonderful sight of blood spilling over the spider symbols on her robe ...

"It _is_ easy, my friend. You should be happy; you start working for me and the first job you get is something you love to do," Jarlaxle answered with a fake pout. Zaknafein hardly could object to this, and as he didn't answer immediately, Jarlaxle turned to Artemis who still looked as if he wanted to tear the mercenary leader to pieces - which was probably precisely what he wanted to do. "Better than herding rothé, isn't it?"

"Why should I work for you?" Artemis asked, his left hand never leaving the hilt of his dagger.

"I thought we had sorted that out on your last visit in my beautiful city," came the reply in a slightly annoyed voice. Jarlaxle was tensing a bit when he could see the anger building up in the assassin, and he wondered if Artemis would really be stupid enough to attack him.

It took Artemis all of his self-discipline to remain in control of himself. After two days he finally got a chance to talk to Jarlaxle, and it was already obvious that the mercenary leader wouldn't tell him a word. With the soldiers standing behind him, and Zaknafein too absorbed in his daydreams about dying priestesses, forcing Jarlaxle was no option either. After a brief staring contest, Artemis got up and stormed out of the room, his facial expression so frightening that the soldiers backed off to get out of his way when he left.

Jarlaxle watched him go, but he said nothing to hold him back. Artemis' behaviour didn't surprise him much, but he was taken aback when he turned to Zaknafein and found his friend staring at him with an almost reproachful expression on his face.

"You'll drive him mad like that," the Weapon Master stated. The dreamy gleam had left his eyes, giving way to an expression of seriousness and ... was that concern?

"Is that so? Why do you bother to notice, Zaknafein? Do you care for him?" Jarlaxle asked with a sly smile, studying his friend curiously. So far his plan had worked out quite well: Artemis and Zaknafein had indeed spent some time together, despite their talk about Drizzt. But Jarlaxle knew that they were both distrustful, filled with bitterness and anger, two loners who would probably never show each other any affection without a bit of prodding from the outside. And while Jarlaxle didn't even try to get through to Artemis, he might just be able to influence Zaknafein.

"Don't insult me. Not being completely corrupt doesn't mean I'm a sentimental fool," Zaknafein snorted, looking almost offended. "Why should I care about him? I'm simply curious about your motives for bringing him here."

"You've never been able to lie to me, my friend," Jarlaxle said almost affectionately. "This is not about curiosity. You wouldn't bother if I had brought any other human down here, but you bother with Entreri. I know you spent the last days with him, and he couldn't possibly satisfy your curiosity about my motives."

Obviously embarrassed, Zaknafein glanced at the waiting soldiers. Taking the clue, Jarlaxle sent them away with a wave of his hand, confident enough that Zaknafein wouldn't touch him. But even then, the Weapon Master hesitated a while before answering.

"I wanted to know him in order to know about Drizzt. And what I saw ... frightened me," he started slowly, his voice unusually low and halting. After a short pause Zaknafein looked Jarlaxle in the eyes again, seeming almost haunted. "Drizzt must hate me so much ... How else could he call someone like Entreri his enemy? Someone who is so much ... like me?"

Jarlaxle didn't reply immediately, touched by the look on Zaknafein's face. He had never thought about what these similarities between Zaknafein and Entreri meant for Drizzt. Yet he quickly decided to ponder about that later and use the opportunity to learn more about Zaknafein's thoughts. They had been friends for a very long time, and Jarlaxle knew that Zaknafein sometimes, usually in times of great distress, started abruptly to talk to him about his normally well hidden thoughts and feelings. These mostly short and very rare revelations were one of the rare signs of trust Zaknafein had ever shown him, and Jarlaxle had learnt to gain as much from them as possible.

"Like you? What do you mean?" he urged softly, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know. I just see myself in him, my anger, my hatred, my solitude. He's like a mirror, despite our differences, and that unnerves me. I simply don't know what to make of him," Zaknafein continued, thinking aloud rather than talking to Jarlaxle.

He fell silent as suddenly as he had started talking, blinking for a second and then scowling at Jarlaxle, as if was annoyed by the other's presence.

"You want me to take him with me when I go after the priestess?" Zaknafein asked, his voice once again firm and even.

"Indeed," Jarlaxle replied, hiding his disappointment that he didn't get more insight in Zaknafein's feelings. But he had learnt in years of friendship with the Weapon Master that Zaknafein only talked when he wanted to talk, never when someone tried to make him talk.

Jarlaxle handed him a parchment before he got up. "A spy's report about the location and dates of her meetings with her clients. Take care of it quickly, and make sure nobody sees you and Artemis. Now, if you'll excuse me; I have more work to do."

Without waiting for an answer, Jarlaxle left the meeting room, a beaming smile on his face. He was amazed at how quickly his two friends were moving towards each other, and fascinated by what Zaknafein had just said. Yet he reminded himself that he shouldn't draw any premature conclusions. Zaknafein's view on Artemis might change yet, or he would start to feel uncomfortable in the presence of such a "mirror" and avoid Artemis. And more importantly, Jarlaxle had no idea what Artemis was thinking - maybe the assassin was just putting up with Zaknafein because he was the "lesser evil" compared to other drow.

And then there was still Drizzt, hovering between them like a ghost. Even in his absence Drizzt might drive a wedge between Artemis and Zaknafein.

Yet Jarlaxle couldn't help but notice that Artemis had obviously forgiven Zaknafein for the teasing remark during their battle, or at least decided to ignore it. Knowing Artemis Entreri, Jarlaxle was convinced that the assassin would have killed anyone else for these words.

Yes, this was going very well, Jarlaxle thought on the way back to his office. If Zaknafein wasn't falling back into some passive lethargy, but followed his curiosity about Artemis, things might just develop all on their own. Now that Jarlaxle had again forced them to spend some time together, all he had to do was to wait.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Zaknafein looked back over his shoulder to see if Artemis had the situation under control. The assassin was facing the last two standing guards, but they were no match for him. Zaknafein turned back to focus on the reason they were here. He quickly dodged the first strike from the priestess' whip, and only a second later, each of his swords cut off one of the snake heads, leaving only one end on the whip. With a look of outrage on her face, the priestess started to chant, but her words were interrupted by a cry of pain when Zaknafein's next strike took her right arm off. A kick on her knees sent her stumbling to the ground.

Just as she wanted to start a healing spell Zaknafein put a booted foot on her throat, smiling down at her with an almost insane expression. Casually cutting through her adorned robes to destroy the spider symbols, he slowly increased the pressure on the female's throat. His smile widened when her breathing became more and more ragged. At first she tried to push him away, but the strength left her remaining arm quickly enough, although Zaknafein sometimes granted her a second to breath freely - he was enjoying this far too much to end it quickly.

He probably could have continued his game for a while, but Artemis' voice reminded him of Jarlaxle's warning to stay unnoticed.

"Zaknafein? We should be going if we don't want anyone to see us," the assassin called quietly from where he stood. Zaknafein sighed and crushed the priestess' windpipe with a last, brutal footstep before he cleaned his swords on her robes and sheathed them. Only then did he turn around to find Artemis standing over the dead drow soldiers, his weapons already put away and a frown on his face.

Zaknafein shrugged with a grin and went over to him to take the lead. Despite his magical infravision, Artemis had, of course, still more difficulties to find his way in the Underdark than Zaknafein. They didn't bother to dispose of the bodies - nobody would care about a few corpses in this shabby part of the town.

"You really enjoyed that," Artemis stated after a while, when they were away from the battle scene. His voice wasn't reproachful, but rather curious: after all, Zaknafein had seemed somehow different from other drow, but his blood lust exceeded that of most drow Artemis had met in his time in Menzoberranzan.

"Of course," Zaknafein replied matter-of-factly. He seemed much calmer now, and the expression of mad cruelty had left his eyes, giving way to hard, cold hatred. "I spent four centuries here, remember? Four centuries of bowing and grovelling before priestesses, of playing sick games in their beds, of taking beatings even if there was no reason to beat me. And finally -"

He halted suddenly and swallowed, unable to verbalise what Malice had finally done to him - turned him into this undead ... _thing_. Zaknafein just shook his head and looked again at Artemis.

"I can assure you, Artemis, I have every reason in the world to take pleasure in torturing these spider-worshiping bitches," he snorted, and although Artemis himself never tortured anyone for pleasure or revenge, he found that he could not blame Zaknafein. Somehow, it made him angry to imagine the proud Weapon Master on his knees before some haughty, sadistic priestess. It was just ... wrong.

They were walking next to each other in silence until they reached the Clawrift, passing the Bregan D'aerthe guards without paying attention to their slightly confused looks. Most of them were wondering why this great Weapon Master had spent almost all the time after his resurrection with this human and kept out of the way of the other drow.

"Well, I need a bath and a massage now," Zaknafein said finally, before he added with a wink, "You remember my advice, Artemis? I saw you fighting today, and I'm still convinced that you're too tense."

Artemis froze and stared at the drow, not sure what this wink was supposed to mean.

"I can't remember that I allowed you to use my first name," he said stiffly, unwilling to dwell on this or on Zaknafein's words.

"Well, you use mine," Zaknafein said with a shrug.

"I can't call you Do'Urden," Artemis argued. "Do'Urden is Drizzt for me, and you are not like Drizzt."

"I suppose that is a compliment, coming from you," Zaknafein chuckled, but his eyes seemed slightly sad. Artemis wondered how someone as sensible as Zaknafein could care for, even love Drizzt, but considering the kind of life the Weapon Master had led, even Drizzt had probably been better than any other companionship Zaknafein had known. "Anyway, you'll just have to put up with me calling you Artemis, then. I'll see you later."

Without waiting for an answer Zaknafein left, leaving Artemis in a still slightly confused, pondering state of mind. He slowly turned to go to his room, lost in his thoughts about this unusual drow. He had been sceptical about working with anyone, but their mission had gone surprisingly well. It had done Artemis good to vent his frustrations on those drow soldiers, and with a capable fighter like Zaknafein by his side, he had never been worried about his back - not because he trusted Zaknafein, but because he trusted his abilities. It had been somehow similar to the time when he had been forced to fight together with Drizzt, only that there wasn't this hate-filled tension between him and Zaknafein.

And then Zaknafein's words about his past ... Zaknafein's life had apparently been even worse than Artemis' - after all, although Artemis had worked for pashas and abided, more or less, by their rules, nobody would have dared to boss him around, let alone to beat him. He had, in his own hellish world, enjoyed still more freedom and respect than Zaknafein. Yet he had felt nonetheless a strong familiarity with him when Zaknafein had spoken about his past.

But the relationship between Drizzt and Zaknafein was completely beyond him. He still didn't know what exactly had happened at the end of Zaknafein's life, nor what Zaknafein had meant with his cryptic words that he too had tried to kill Drizzt.

Yet what confused him probably most were not these reasonable questions he was asking himself, but his feelings in the drow's presence. Artemis would have been unable to name them, but he was deeply worried by the closeness that was growing, albeit slowly and hesitantly, between them. In a way, he felt attracted to this drow. Not sexually, but he was still somehow intrigued by Zaknafein's strange kind of charisma.

Artemis groaned in frustration when he finally sank on his bed in his room, shaking his head. As had become his habit in the last months, he started to curse Jarlaxle for all of this. He wished he had never met this infuriating madman, he wished that he had never been brought to this hellhole. This whole trouble in his life was simply Jarlaxle's fault. But still, Artemis couldn't bring himself to curse Jarlaxle for presenting Zaknafein to him.

- - - - -

"Aren't they cute?"

Kimmuriel snorted at these words and cast a glance at his new 'partner', who was sitting at his table, staring with a disgusted expression at the scrying orb in front of him. He waved the image away when Artemis and Zaknafein parted and looked up to the psionicist, who was standing at his side.

"It makes me sick just to look at them," Kimmuriel replied coldly. "A pity to see this pretty fighter waste his time with_ iblith_. But at least I know now why Jarlaxle brought them here."

Rai-Guy smiled, but it resembled a grimace rather than an expression of joy or amusement. "Yes, they are quite efficient. But I can't say that I am happy about Do'Urden's obvious contempt for Lady Lolth and her children, nor about his affection for this filth."

The psionicist examined him once again, his eyes roaming over the stitched spiders on the cleric's robes, then over his sharp, cold features - Rai-Guy was definitely worth a closer look. He was a bit older than Kimmuriel, but they were so like-minded that the psionicist had hardly felt bothered by having an eye on the cleric-mage upon his arrival in Menzoberranzan two days ago.

"But I'm sure something can be done about that, no? We can't have to put up with that human down here for long," Rai-Guy snorted when Kimmuriel didn't answer, but he psionicist shrugged.

"You don't know Jarlaxle yet as well as I do. He is quite fond of that human, and he doesn't like it if anyone breaks his toys. But he'll get tired of him sooner or later, when he finds a new whim."

Rai-Guy didn't seem satisfied by that answer, but as he had only just arrived and not yet completely earned his place in Bregan D'aerthe, he certainly didn't want to anger Jarlaxle, his apparent saviour.

Bowing slightly, Kimmuriel left Rai-Guy's office he had only gone to for this little scrying session. On his way back to his own office, he was suddenly met by the sound of clacking boots and a loud, joyful voice.

The psionicist held back a scowl when Jarlaxle appeared from a side corridor. The mercenary leader was accompanied by a young fighter, also a rather new acquisition of Bregan D'aerthe. Berg'inyon Baenre, if Kimmuriel remembered his name correctly - and his memory never failed him - the youngest son of the First House and the brother of the once legendary and now dead Dantrag Baenre, once Zaknafein's arch rival, as Kimmuriel had heard. Menzoberranzan was indeed a tiny place.

"Oh, Kimmuriel, what a wonderful coincidence!" Jarlaxle exclaimed when he spotted his lieutenant. He seemed as good-humoured as ever, but Berg'inyon was fuming - apparently he and Jarlaxle had just had some kind of dispute, or rather: Berg'inyon had probably been angry about something and Jarlaxle had mocked him.

"Your toys have returned," Kimmuriel stated calmly, although he was sure that Jarlaxle had already heard of it. "I still don't understand who this priestess was; you never told me of this problem before."

"I didn't?" Jarlaxle chuckled. "Don't worry, my friend, I am not keeping secrets from you; I would never do something so rude. The truth is - there was no problem."

"You mean you set this up," Kimmuriel asked only a split second later, drawing immediately the consequences of Jarlaxle's words.

"Exactly." Jarlaxle beamed at him like a child who had managed to play a prank on someone. "Don't tell Rai-Guy, he wouldn't be too happy."

Kimmuriel snorted and shook his head, amazed that Jarlaxle did something so absurd for no apparent reason - if he wanted them to do something useful, why not assign them to a real task?

"You're wasting your time with this Do'Urden; he's simply uncontrollable," Berg'inyon said suddenly to Jarlaxle, obviously resuming their previous discussion.

"You sound like your brother, Berg'inyon," Jarlaxle sighed in exasperation, although his eyes still gleamed in amusement. "Take it as a lesson that his obsession with Zaknafein killed Dantrag, instead of continuing this little Do'Urden-Baenre-feud."

"I have no intention to fight Zaknafein, but I'm not comfortable with him being around," the young Baenre argued, and Kimmuriel found that he completely agreed with Berg'inyon and Rai-Guy: he didn't want Zaknafein here; the Weapon Master was just too ... different. Jarlaxle was different, too, but Bregan D'aerthe needed him. They could, however, do very well without one fighter, no matter how good said fighter was.

But Berg'inyon was about to learn what Kimmuriel already knew - nobody talked Jarlaxle out of his whims. "If this preoccupies you so much, why don't you join my friend Kimmuriel here and our new partner Rai-Guy? I'm sure you would have much fun plotting against my dear Zaknafein. Just don't overdo it, will you?"

Jarlaxle smirked at Kimmuriel, who was - despite his effort not to show it - more than surprised. Jarlaxle couldn't possibly know about Kimmuriel's conversations with Rai-Guy about the Weapon Master! And why did he even instigate them against Zaknafein and Entreri, instead of calling them to order?

The mercenary leader just chuckled and winked before he continued on his way, leaving Berg'inyon still angry and Kimmuriel at the same time confused and intrigued. Jarlaxle was drawing him into some kind of game in which he was pulling the strings. Kimmuriel was not sure if it was a good idea to get involved in this game, but then, maybe it offered him a possibility to get rid of these annoying misfits.

A fascinated smile crept on his lips. Maybe this would prove to be more amusing than he had expected.

- - - - -

Zaknafein sighed contently when he entered the basin, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on his sweaty skin. He had been happy to discover that the big, public bathroom was empty. There was an unspoken agreement in Bregan D'aerthe that the baths were neutral ground; Jarlaxle had always made it clear that anyone who dared to assassinate an unloved colleague in this bathroom wouldn't get away with it - he wanted to give his men a place where they could relax. But still, as the only important rule in drow society was that you could do anything as long as there were no witnesses, paranoia never left a drow completely. Therefore Zaknafein had been relieved to have the baths for himself.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, and he found his thoughts soon enough drawn back to Artemis. Despite his teasing comment, Zaknafein had actually been quite impressed with the human's abilities - he was a better fighter than most drow the Weapon Master had known, and Zaknafein wondered how good Artemis might become if he took his advice.

But there was more about the assassin than only his fighting prowess, his rivalry with Drizzt, and his similarities with Zaknafein. The drow found himself thinking more and more often that Artemis was simply attractive. This rough, human beauty held a certain fascination for Zaknafein, and especially Artemis' grey, apparently lifeless eyes intrigued him - eyes that could still burn with anger, eyes that sometimes betrayed a feeling of familiarity. Eyes that showed that under the cold facade of the composed assassin, there was still a man, and a quite passionate one at that.

Still, Zaknafein wasn't sure how far this attraction was going - sleeping with his son's rival was hardly the most obvious thing to do for a man, and Zaknafein still hesitated if he even wanted to.

_But what _if_ you wanted to? What would you do? _The question immediately appeared in his mind, demanding an answer. Artemis definitely didn't seem like a man who was easy to seduce, and his hatred for drow was obvious.

Seduction was nothing drow usually cared about: between two drow, the stronger one, the one with the higher station, would take with force what he wanted if it wasn't offered willingly. Zaknafein, for all his principles, was no exception to that. But he realised that it was different with Artemis - maybe this was why he wasn't sure about the nature of this attraction: it wasn't the simple physical desire he was used to, but a strange wish for ... for what? Intimacy? Tenderness? Absurd!

But no matter how absurd it was, Zaknafein couldn't deny that while he wanted to have Artemis, he had not the slightest desire to force him.

He could not dwell longer on these thoughts, because he felt suddenly that he wasn't alone anymore. He hadn't heard anything, but he felt watched. His eyes opened immediately to see a slender, handsome drow walking through the room and stop a few feet away from Zaknafein's tub. The Weapon Master didn't remember his face very well, but the fact that he wore neither robes nor armour left only one possibility: Jarlaxle's psionicist lieutenant.

"_Vendui_, Zaknafein," he said, his voice soft and at the same time cold.

"_Vendui_ ... Kimmuriel, is it?" Zaknafein replied, not bothering to get out of the water. He had no idea what the strange psionicist wanted, but he certainly wouldn't allow him to disturb him in the middle of his bath.

The psionicist bowed slightly and crossed his arms behind his back. He continued to stare Zaknafein in the eyes, but the Weapon Master couldn't help but feel that Kimmuriel cast a glance at the parts of his body that weren't under water every once in a while.

"Like what you see?" Zaknafein teased. Seeing Kimmuriel's stony face, he was unable to remain serious - and a little dispute might distract him from his unsettling thoughts about Artemis.

The psionicist snorted and answered derisively, "Does your human like it?"

To his own surprise, Zaknafein felt a sting at these words, and although he continued to grin, he wondered suddenly if the psionicist was reading his mind right now.

"Why do you ask? Are you interested in him? I can assure you, I have no claims on him whatsoever, but I doubt that he would appreciate your advances," he chuckled, wondering what was the matter with him today. He sounded almost as silly as Jarlaxle.

Anger flashed through Kimmuriel's eyes, and Zaknafein felt a childish satisfaction when he saw that the psionicist's mask cracked.

"Most certainly not," Kimmuriel replied, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He slowly closed the remaining distance between them, stopping beside the basin and leaning forward until his face was close to Zaknafein's.

"You're already antagonising quite a few people, Zaknafein," he whispered, a cruel smile on his lips. He could easily see behind Zaknafein's amused mask, feel that the Weapon Master was far more scared than he would ever care to admit. Zaknafein had faced countless fighters, clerics, mages, but the presence of someone who could read and maybe even influence his very thoughts disconcerted him.

"If I were you, I'd ask myself if I should reconsider my behaviour ... and my allies ..." Kimmuriel's voice was hardly audible now, his lips so close to Zaknafein's ear that they almost touched it. Zaknafein's grin died down and he looked up at Kimmuriel, frowning now.

"What do you want?" he growled, now trying to mask his growing fear with anger, although he knew that it was pointless against a psionicist. For the first time in a very long period, Zaknafein was feeling truly terrified. He didn't like at all where this was going.

"I just want to prevent you from doing something very stupid. It would be a pity if we had to get rid of such a beauty like you," Kimmuriel said with a smile, but it was so cold that it unsettled Zaknafein all the more. _Drow seduction_. He swallowed when Kimmuriel tenderly stroked his cheek.

"And it would be a pity if Jarlaxle got angry at his dear lieutenant; your master likes me quite a lot," Zaknafein replied in a surprisingly calm voice. He knew that he was right, that Kimmuriel couldn't really do anything to him ... but that changed nothing about the fact that this psionicist was making his blood freeze.

Kimmuriel just continued to smile and bent down further, laying his lips almost tenderly on Zaknafein's, but the following kiss was brutal rather than anything else. Zaknafein needed a few seconds to even realise what was happening before he grabbed Kimmuriel's shoulders and pushed him away, sending the slender psionicist stumbling backwards.

Zaknafein was trembling with anger, and if he hadn't been in such an awkward position, he probably would have strangled Kimmuriel with his bare hands.

Kimmuriel glared at him angrily, straightening and adjusting his clothes. Zaknafein was still not moving, not wanting to expose himself to Kimmuriel after what had just happened. The psionicist stared at him in blatant hatred and anger, a look that was returned with the same rage.

"Don't you ever touch me again," Zaknafein hissed, too furious to consider that his threat was completely empty in this situation. Even if he could stand a chance against Kimmuriel when he was armed - and it was doubtful that he could - he was completely helpless now.

The anger didn't leave Kimmuriel's hard eyes, but the drow suddenly laughed, a dry, contemptuous sound that faded after a mere second.

"You're being ridiculous, Zaknafein. You know that I will have my way sooner or later, whether you want it or not," he said with disturbing calm. He let his eyes roam a last time over Zaknafein's chest and arms, yet he didn't continue his assault, but simply turned around and left.

Zaknafein knew that this was not the last he had seen of Kimmuriel, and the knowledge that the psionicist was indeed more powerful than him made him sick with fear. A few minutes after Kimmuriel had left, Zaknafein got finally out of the basin and dressed again. Just as he was putting on his armour, a second disturbing thought came to him: what if Kimmuriel - and the others he had mentioned - did not only try to scare Zaknafein, but also Artemis? Suddenly deeply worried - and so beside himself that he didn't even question this feeling - he fastened his weapon belt and hurried off to Artemis' rooms.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

If Artemis' door hadn't been locked, Zaknafein probably would have entered without even knocking. It seemed an eternity to him until the door was finally unlocked and opened, revealing a tired looking human.

"What do you want?" Artemis said with a frown. The assassin had apparently been sleeping, for he was only wearing simple trousers, and his hair was tousled.

Zaknafein felt suddenly very stupid. He had come running to Artemis' aid as if all Nine Hells had been after him, convinced that Kimmuriel or whoever might be harassing, if not torturing the human. But apparently nobody had bothered Artemis and he had just slept peacefully.

For one of the rare times in his life, Zaknafein was at a loss for words. He bit on his bottom lip and said after a while, "Can I come in?"

Artemis hesitated, probably thinking that Zaknafein was having one of his insane fits, but then he shrugged and stepped aside, letting the Weapon Master in and closing the door behind him.

"Are you alright?" Artemis asked when Zaknafein didn't say anything, but just looked around in the room as if he was expecting some fiend to jump out of a closet at every moment.

"What?" Zaknafein turned around and stared at Artemis, then he grinned. "Actually I wanted to ask you the same thing."

Artemis shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he was even putting up with this mad drow instead of sleeping. He sighed and sat down on his bed, still looking at Zaknafein.

"Sit down and tell me what your problem is. You look as if you had gone completely mad."

Zaknafein seemed embarrassed, but he sat down next to Artemis, earning a bemused scowl from the assassin, who had expected him to sit on the chair rather than on his bed.

"I just had a very ... strange encounter with Kimmuriel," Zaknafein said finally, shaking his head. His eyes and voice were suddenly much clearer than before, but he remained very tense and unsettled.

Artemis scowled even more. He had met Kimmuriel only rarely, but the psionicist made no secret of his disdain for anything that was not drow. However, Artemis hadn't known of any animosity between Kimmuriel and Zaknafein.

"He ... he interrupted my bath," Zaknafein continued, himself amazed by the absurdity of what had just happened to him. "He just walked in and - I hate it when someone interrupts my bath!"

Artemis just stared at him, not knowing what to do with him. Zaknafein seemed really unsettled, but insane or not, Artemis doubted that the drow would get so angry just because someone walked into the _public_ baths while he was there.

"So let me get this right: you come running to me as if you had finally lost your mind because Kimmuriel disturbed you while you were bathing?"

Zaknafein made a face, instead of chuckling at these absurd words as Artemis would have expected. It became obvious now to the assassin that something grave was weighing the drow down.

"I don't know what exactly happened," Zaknafein sighed, now looking at the floor. "He threatened me because he harbours a strong dislike for you, and for me for being near you. I thought he might ... come here."

"You were -" Artemis said quietly, suddenly turning very pale. He didn't finish his sentence, it was just to absurd! Why should Zaknafein be worried about him? Nobody had ever been worried about his well-being; nobody had ever cared if something happened to him.

"What? No! Of course not! I'd never let him!" Zaknafein exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at Artemis and not even wondering how the assassin had guessed what Kimmuriel had threatened to do. It took a completely bewildered look from Artemis to make him realise his mistake.

"I mean ... Never mind. As long as he wasn't here, it doesn't matter what he said."

The assassin narrowed his eyes, but then he shook his head and just stared at the wall, deciding that it was probably best to wait until Zaknafein had calmed down. Zaknafein sighed and buried his face in his hands, trying to forget this humiliation. His next feeling as soon as his panic and worry died down was anger, the maddening desire to go to Kimmuriel and rip his heart out.

Knowing that he really needed to think of something else, Zaknafein looked up again and opened his mouth, but he remained silent when his eyes came to rest upon Artemis' bare chest. A soft smile appeared on his lips when he studied the human for a moment, but Artemis noticed this far too quickly.

"Why are you staring at me?" the assassin growled, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. He knew that it was a ridiculous thought, but he wished he had put on a shirt before opening the door.

Zaknafein looked Artemis in the eyes and hesitated - the only thing he could read in the human's face was suspiciousness, and the assassin had suddenly tensed up completely. The drow had no idea what to say - he usually didn't talk in such situations. He had always either obeyed the female he had spent the night with, or he had simply taken what he wanted from another male - and that seemed, for some reason, very inappropriate now.

For a few seconds, Zaknafein tried in vain to think of something to say that could make the human relax, but he decided finally that anything he could say might just upset Artemis even more. Instead, he did the only thing he knew to do in such a situation. He softly laid a hand on the assassin's cheek, halting a second before he leaned forward to kiss him - as tender a kiss as he could manage.

At first, Artemis didn't react at all. He remained completely stiff for a few moments until he suddenly jumped on his feet and retreated a few steps, staring wide-eyed at Zaknafein. He didn't look angry, though, only shocked.

Zaknafein was just as surprised - nobody had ever reacted like this to a kiss. Remembering his encounter with Kimmuriel, he immediately supposed that Artemis had maybe already been threatened by some other drow when he had been in Menzoberranzan for the first time - but even that was hardly a reason to panic now, in Zaknafein's opinion. He slowly got up and started to close the distance between them, but he paused when Artemis hissed, "Stay away."

Artemis seemed taken aback when he realised that Zaknafein had indeed stopped and didn't touch him again. He continued to stare at the drow, and to his amazement he saw only confusion, but no aggressiveness in Zaknafein's eyes.

"What are you doing?" Artemis asked finally, looking completely helpless now. Zaknafein wasn't acting at all like Artemis had expected after that kiss. If it wasn't so absurd, he would say that Zaknafein was really waiting for his approval before he would continue.

"I thought you might like it," Zaknafein said hesitantly, thinking that it was Artemis who had to be out of his mind. He had been nice, hadn't he? There was no way Artemis could not have liked it.

"I don't want to like it! I was comfortable with things as they were, I don't want them to change," the human argued. He seemed to regain some of his confidence now that he realised that Zaknafein had apparently no intention to force him, but his voice had still a panicked ring.

Zaknafein didn't answer. He had never been in such a strange situation, and he had never been good at improvising, outside of battle. He didn't like it when anything unexpected happened, anything he wasn't used to.

"I am tired," Artemis said after a few moments, narrowing his eyes. "I want you to leave."

The assassin seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if he still expected Zaknafein to laugh at him and just continue what he had started. He only relaxed when the Weapon Master nodded after a moment and turned around to leave - if he couldn't improvise, he had to retreat and rethink his tactics.

Just as his hand touched the door knob, the Weapon Master halted again and said, "Do you want me to come by tomorrow?"

Artemis didn't answer at first, and Zaknafein had already given up and was just closing the door behind him when he heard a mumbled, "If you want."

Zaknafein sighed deeply, although Artemis' last words had reassured him a bit. He stood before the closed door for several seconds, still confused by what had just happened. He couldn't understand why Artemis had sent him away instead of welcoming his advances, like everyone else had done so far. Zaknafein would have understood if Artemis had grown suspicious towards other drow, but he should know that Zaknafein had no reason to seduce him but his desire - and he thought he had made it clear that he had no intention to fulfil this desire at Artemis' expense.

After a few moments, Zaknafein decided to go and see Jarlaxle. Not that he wanted to talk to him about this encounter with Artemis, but Jarlaxle could - as absurd as it might seem - help him to calm down. Zaknafein wondered for a moment if he should tell his friend about Kimmuriel, but he was too ashamed of his own weakness. He would certainly not humiliate himself even more by asking Jarlaxle for help.

The guards before Jarlaxle's office let him pass without hesitation, and Zaknafein found his friend sitting at his desk, smiling widely and obviously happy to see him - although Jarlaxle seemed to be happy most of the time, so this probably didn't mean much.

"How nice of you to pay me a visit," Jarlaxle said, gesturing for the chair in front of his desk. He only continued when Zaknafein had sat down. "Fine work you did today. But tell me, where is Artemis?"

"In his room, sleeping," Zaknafein answered curtly. "He's acting a bit strangely today."

"You didn't talk about Drizzt again, did you?" Jarlaxle asked in a playfully admonishing voice. He sensed clearly that something was burdening Zaknafein, and apparently it was the same with Artemis. And Jarlaxle could imagine only one reason to explain this: some dispute about Drizzt.

"No, we didn't." Zaknafein seemed a bit surprised, but he didn't mind the direction this conversation was taking. He preferred to talk about Drizzt now than to tell Jarlaxle that Artemis had rejected him! And after all, the thought of his son still preoccupied him, it hadn't just disappeared because of Kimmuriel and Artemis. "Although I have to admit that he confused me with what he said about Drizzt. Drizzt was always very self-confident and quick to judge others, but he was right to condemn what he saw in Menzoberranzan. I just can't believe that he has become self-righteous and arrogant, like Artemis said."

"I am sure that Drizzt has changed over the last decades, but you shouldn't take Artemis too seriously on this. He hates Drizzt," Jarlaxle said nonchalantly.

"You are probably right. Still, I would like to - " Zaknafein started, finally trying to verbalise an idea that had been spooking through his head for a few days now, but the occasion to say it had never occurred. "I want to see him. I want to know how he lives, how much he has changed. Do you think you could ... arrange something?"

Jarlaxle's smile faded for a moment. He had already been wondering when Zaknafein would ask him for this, and at the same time he had hoped that the Weapon Master wouldn't. Jarlaxle had wanted Zaknafein to be so busy with Artemis that he didn't think too much about Drizzt, and he most certainly didn't want that Zaknafein meet Drizzt again. It could only go wrong! Either Zaknafein would be proud of his son, which would anger Artemis, or he would be disappointed in him and probably be crushed.

"I will have to think about that," Jarlaxle replied, an apologising look on his face. "Drizzt is on the surface, I would have to get you up there somehow, and that is not the easiest thing to do. I could talk to Kimmuriel about it; he will be here in a minute anyway."

Zaknafein had stood up before Jarlaxle had even finished his sentence, but he was immediately embarrassed by his own jumpiness. True, he had no desire to see the psionicist, not even when they weren't alone. He might just show his discomfort in Kimmuriel's presence, and he didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Still, he shouldn't let his fear get the better of him - Kimmuriel was only a drow, maybe a powerful one, but still only one drow.

But just as he wanted to excuse himself and leave, the door opened again. Zaknafein turned around to see Kimmuriel enter, accompanied by another drow male in richly adorned robes - a cleric's robes, not a mage's - who was wearing a pendant with Lolth's symbol.

Zaknafein froze in place, and he didn't even move when Jarlaxle stood up and walked over to him, softly putting a hand on his forearm. All he could do was stare at this stranger who represented, for him, the most complete treachery a drow male could possibly commit. He hadn't even known that there were male clerics of Lolth, but he knew that there shouldn't be any!

Rai-Guy was staring at Zaknafein with equal contempt, and Kimmuriel was watching the whole display with cruel amusement. Zaknafein was on the verge of losing his temper, but Jarlaxle's tightening grip on his wrist held him back.

"Rai-Guy, Kimmuriel, would you please wait here for a minute?" Jarlaxle said with his most amiable smile, virtually shoving a very reluctant Zaknafein out of the room - something he managed to do only because Zaknafein was too shocked to resist. The Weapon Master yanked his arm free as soon as the door closed behind him, casting Jarlaxle a look of incredulous outrage.

"A cleric of Lolth? You are tolerating this filth here?" he roared, earning quite a few irritated looks from the soldiers in the anteroom. "Not enough that you call this freak of a psionicist your lieutenant, but you also protect such an ... abomination! I will kill him!"

"Would you please calm down?" Jarlaxle sighed, seeming a bit embarrassed. It unsettled him when situations got out of control - he hadn't expected Kimmuriel to bring Rai-Guy to the meeting, or otherwise he would have made sure that Zaknafein and Rai-Guy didn't meet. "I can assure you that Rai-Guy is no one you would want to antagonise, let alone Rai-Guy and Kimmuriel together."

Zaknafein just snorted and shook his head, trying to get his anger under control. Jarlaxle was probably right, but that didn't change anything about the fact that he wished to rip this traitor's entrails out and strangle him with them. He was so angry that he couldn't even enjoy the rare sight of Jarlaxle losing control over a situation.

"Come on, you should really rest a bit. You're tired and irritable," Jarlaxle said softly, putting a hand on Zaknafein's arm. "You need your reverie, and I have to go to my meeting. We will talk about this later, alright?"

The Weapon Master sighed, but he didn't object. Jarlaxle was again right - he was really exhausted from a long day, and his nerves were overwrought from Kimmuriel's threats, Artemis' rejection, and his encounter with Rai-Guy. Aware that he couldn't do anything now, Zaknafein just nodded and left to return to his own room.

* * *

Artemis was again turning around in his bed, unable to find sleep. He was tired and he had been sleeping calmly before Zaknafein had come, but he couldn't find any rest now. The only thing he could think about were Zaknafein's lips on his.

_I thought you might like it._

Bastard. Of course he had liked it. How could he not? Artemis couldn't remember that anyone had ever kissed him with such skill, such tenderness. This short kiss he hadn't even returned had been better than almost anything else he had tasted so far.

True, he was in need of closeness. He had been alone since he had left Calimport - he hadn't wanted to touch any drow nor their human slaves in Menzoberranzan, and during his time in Silverymoon, he had been so depressed that he simply hadn't felt like spending his nights with some barmaids. Although Artemis had always tried to control his sexual needs as much as possible, the long months of abstinence were starting to weigh him down.

And in such a situation this insane drow had to kiss him, inspiring desires in him that he had never thought possible to feel for a drow, let alone for Drizzt's father. Artemis almost tended to forget this fact, as Zaknafein was so different from Drizzt. He had truly come to like the drow over the last days, but there had been nothing more - or at least he had told himself that.

But now, he couldn't possibly deny that this kiss had made him want more, more of the drow's skill, of his consideration. The fact that Zaknafein hadn't even tried to put pressure on him intrigued Artemis even more. He almost cursed himself for sending the drow away, but at that moment, he had really been shocked.

And he was still not sure if it would be prudent to give Zaknafein what he desired. Artemis couldn't help but fear that the drow might simply get bored and leave him then. He knew that it was an absurd thought, but that didn't make it any less real. All the more so as it was true what he had said to Zaknafein: he was indeed comfortable in their growing friendship, if it could be called this. He didn't want to disturb the wary balance between them by complying so easily with Zaknafein's wishes. No, he had been right to send the drow away.

Once he had made up his mind, Artemis relaxed and lay back, hoping that he would finally get some sleep now. He did, after a while, but his last thoughts before he fell asleep were those of a certain smiling drow and the feeling of his lips.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Sitting behind the big desk in his office, Jarlaxle was scowling, completely lost in thoughts. He was angry at himself for letting this situation slip out of his control. He should have thought of the possibility that Kimmuriel would bring Rai-Guy to the meeting, but how could he have expected that the psionicist and the cleric would associate so quickly?

Jarlaxle shook his head and decided to abandon these fruitless considerations. He couldn't change what had happened, he could only make the best of it. Encouraging Kimmuriel's hatred for Artemis and Zaknafein had seemed a good idea at first - if they had a common enemy, they would have to work together. But Jarlaxle had never wished for a truly violent conflict between his closest allies, and he cursed himself now for underestimating how serious Kimmuriel would take this. Especially now that Rai-Guy got involved, too.

Zaknafein's wish to go to the surface and find Drizzt seemed consequently not so bad anymore. Jarlaxle hadn't been inclined to grant him this in the beginning, not sure if he could trust Artemis enough to let him return to the surface. Imprisoning Artemis and Zaknafein had seemed much safer than letting them run around on the surface. But in light of the last events, Jarlaxle had reconsidered his opinion. Although he didn't know what exactly had occurred between Kimmuriel and Zaknafein, he could sense the tension between them. He knew that both the Weapon Master and the psionicist were, in their own way, particularly stubborn, aggressive and violent - and if he didn't want this situation to get completely out of hand, he had to make sure that these quarrelsome drow were far away from each other.

Fairly quickly after his meeting with Kimmuriel and Rai-Guy on the previous day, Jarlaxle had asked another mage to spy on Drizzt. Luckily, the renegade and his pretty human friend were currently not on this ship, but staying in Waterdeep, as it was winter on the surface. As Zaknafein would certainly refuse any help from Kimmuriel, he would have to travel there by normal means - and therefore need a guide.

Despite his former doubts Jarlaxle was almost sure that Artemis wouldn't run away - he knew that Jarlaxle would find him again, and he didn't have a place to go anyway. If his intuition didn't fail him - and it never did - Artemis already started to like Zaknafein, although he would not admit it.

By the time Zaknafein knocked on the door of his office, the usual smile had found its way back on Jarlaxle's face. He beamed at his friend when Zaknafein entered and cast him a suspicious glare.

"I'm glad that you could come to see me so fast," Jarlaxle said, smiling when Zaknafein sat down. "I have some good news for you, my friend."

"The cleric is dead?" Zaknafein retorted dryly, his face perfectly straight.

"No, much better," Jarlaxle answered without missing a beat. "You will get to see Drizzt in just a few weeks. Here, look."

The mercenary leader turned around the map on his desk to show it to Zaknafein.

"This is Waterdeep, where Drizzt will be staying for the next months. And here is where you will come out when one of my scouts brings you to the surface. From there, it will take you about three weeks to get to Waterdeep," Jarlaxle explained, pointing to the different places on the map.

"You know that I have never been to the surface. How far will your scout accompany me?" Zaknafein asked, furrowing his brow despite his excitement.

"Only to the surface. But that is why Artemis will come with you. He knows these lands perfectly, and he will protect you from drow-hating humans," the mercenary leader continued, obviously happy with his own plan.

"I see, you have already thought it through," Zaknafein snorted, yet he couldn't help but smile. He wanted so desperately to see his son again, and according to Jarlaxle's plan, he wouldn't even have to miss Artemis' presence on his surface trip. He couldn't decide what was more enjoyable: the prospect of a reunion with Drizzt, or the idea of spending the next weeks with Artemis.

"Of course, I spend day and night thinking about your well-being, my friend," Jarlaxle said in the most amiable voice.

"What would I do without you?" Zaknafein growled. "I know that you just want to get me away from that disgusting cleric. Don't think that you can fool me."

"Never," Jarlaxle replied, theatrically laying a hand on his chest and shaking his head. He knew Zaknafein well enough to recognise that the Weapon Master was just trying to appear angry, while he was really just as excited as Jarlaxle.

"What if Artemis refuses to be my guide?" Zaknafein asked finally.

"Then you will have to convince him," Jarlaxle answered with a wink. Zaknafein just shook his head and rolled his eyes, mumbling a barely audible curse while he got up. "You'd better tell him soon; you can leave tomorrow, if you want."

Zaknafein nodded and turned around to leave, but he stopped a last time just at the door and cast Jarlaxle a slight smile. No matter what motives the mercenary leader had, Zaknafein still felt grateful for his help.

* * *

Not without some uncertainty, Zaknafein waited after he had knocked, feeling almost relieved when the door was opened and Artemis let him in. The human had just got up a few minutes ago, and he returned to his mirror without saying a word, starting to shave. Zaknafein didn't fail to notice that Artemis had, unlike on the previous evening, put on a shirt. The Weapon Master sat down on one of the chairs, silently contemplating Artemis. When the human finally turned around, running a hand over his now smooth cheek and staring thoughtfully at the drow, Zaknafein finally spoke.

"What happened yesterday -" he started hesitantly, but Artemis interrupted him with a snort.

"Don't. Let us just ... pretend that it didn't happen," the assassin said, staring in Zaknafein's eyes. The drow furrowed his brow, but he nodded slightly. He still couldn't fathom why Artemis had rejected him, but he had come to know the human well enough to understand that it was a considerable sign of affection from Artemis to forgive him.

Still, Zaknafein sighed deeply, confused by the human's strange behaviour. He didn't want to force him to anything, but he wanted to be closer to him - and he wanted Artemis' help on his journey to the surface. The human probably wasn't very inclined to travel with Zaknafein alone after the kiss that had seemed to offend him so much.

Artemis ignored him again while he dressed completely and buckled his weapon belt. Only then did he turn to Zaknafein, halting for a moment before he sat down beside him, casting him a questioning glare.

"Jarlaxle allows you to return to the surface," Zaknafein started finally, deliberately insisting on the mercenary leader's part in this, "as my guide."

Artemis turned pale under his tanned skin and stared at Zaknafein in disbelief. He hadn't expected to leave Menzoberranzan any time soon, least of all with Jarlaxle's permission. But the certainty that the insane mercenary was setting him up again made Artemis all the more suspicious.

"Explain yourself," he demanded, afraid that he was starting to hope for nothing.

"I need someone to lead me to Waterdeep, and you know the surface better than any drow," Zaknafein explained, trying to keep his voice as calm and nonchalant as possible.

"And what could you possibly want in Waterdeep?" Artemis asked. He felt that he already knew the answer, and the idea made him sick.

"Drizzt is there," the drow replied indeed, never taking his eyes off Artemis' face. The human was silent for several seconds. His trembling bottom lip and the dazed expression in his eyes showed clearly that he was struggling with himself.

"I have no desire to see him ever again," he said finally in a strained voice. "I am done with him, and I do not want to revive old hatred by seeing his self-righteous face again."

A faint smile appeared on Zaknafein's lips - he hadn't expected Artemis to accept immediately, and he was relieved that the human refused calmly instead of turning violent.

"I know, and I am not asking you to face him, just to bring me to him. It is probably the only occasion to get out of here that Jarlaxle will grant you."

"He will force me to return anyway," Artemis sighed, his voice pained and hopeless.

"Is that a reason to stay alone in Menzoberranzan while I am gone?" Zaknafein asked, and although he wanted to unsettle Artemis, the thought disturbed him just as much. He didn't even want to imagine what Kimmuriel might do to Artemis in his absence.

"Do I even have a choice?" Artemis snorted angrily, staring at Zaknafein, but he couldn't keep his scowl up for long when he looked into the drow's eyes. Zaknafein seemed so unusually happy, excited, free from the anger and despair that beclouded his face most of the time. Artemis could only think that the drow was so beautiful that it made his heart beat faster. Yet at the same time he felt, as absurd as it was, hurt because only the prospect of seeing Drizzt again had coaxed such a happy smile out of the drow.

Artemis quickly turned his head away, and he shivered when Zaknafein took his hand softly.

"When will we leave?" the assassin asked weakly, trying to ignore the heat of Zaknafein's touch.

"Tomorrow," the drow answered, releasing Artemis' hand when he realised what he was doing. He hesitated for a moment before he got up, sensing that the human needed to be alone. He tried to catch Artemis' gaze again, but the assassin just stared at the floor, and so Zaknafein simply left without another word.

* * *

Having checked a last time that he had everything he needed, Artemis left his small room early in the next morning. He had mixed feelings about their trip to the surface: sure, he wanted to get out of Menzoberranzan, but he didn't want to get anywhere near Drizzt. His growing affection for Zaknafein wasn't exactly making his life easier, and spending the previous day brooding about the Weapon Master had only confused Artemis more.

He was therefore in a bad mood when he arrived at their meeting point, and his only reply to Jarlaxle's friendly greeting was a deep growl. He decided to ignore the annoying mercenary leader and just nodded to Zaknafein, before he looked at the third waiting drow. Artemis had never seen him before, but considering how small and slender the drow was, it wasn't surprising that he had not drawn much attention on him. His movements were, however, perfectly graceful, leaving no doubt about his ability to handle his weapons. Dressed in light armour instead of chain mail, he looked still more like a scout than like a warrior.

"Valas Hune. One of my best scouts," Jarlaxle presented the drow, immediately confirming Artemis' assumption. "He will lead you to the surface, but not further. But I'm sure you will find the way once you're up there, Artemis."

Artemis just nodded again, deciding to ignore Zaknafein's slight grin. If the Weapon Master started to tease him for his bad humour just as Jarlaxle did, the assassin would gut him in his sleep.

"Say hello to Drizzt from me," Jarlaxle said to Zaknafein when Artemis continued to ignore him. The Weapon Master smiled almost happily, before he nodded to Valas, who shouldered his bag and started to lead them out of Menzoberranzan.

* * *

They stepped out of the Underdark two days later. They had only rested for a few hours since Menzoberranzan, and the two drow had been impressed that Artemis had kept up so easily with them, despite the fact that he was not used to travelling in the darkness. Still, their steps had become slower and heavier over the last hours, yet Artemis sped up again when he smelt fresh air and got the confirmation from Valas that they were close to the surface.

Zaknafein followed him quickly, and true enough, they reached the surface only a few minutes later. It was late in the evening and the sun had already set, but the drow still felt blinded and confused by his new surroundings. It took Zaknafein several moments to adjust to the light before he looked at Artemis again.

The human was standing next to him, a relieved smile on his usually so restrained features. Artemis had never had any sense for nature's beauty, but the memory of Menzoberranzan made him appreciate the smell of fresh air and the sight of the open sky. He needed a few minutes to get a hold on himself again. His face once again serious, he turned to Zaknafein.

"We should make camp, we need to rest. I want to get to Waterdeep as fast as possible, before the first snow makes our journey more difficult," he explained in common.

"Snow?" Zaknafein repeated, not familiar with the word. He had no idea what snow could possibly be and how it could slow down their journey. Artemis ignored him and furrowed his brow.

"Where's Valas?" he asked. Zaknafein turned, but he couldn't spot the scout either. He wasn't really surprised, though.

"I think he has already left. His mission was only to bring us here, and he apparently decided that he could go, now that it is done."

An hour later, they had made up their camp in a nearby cave. They were eating in silence, Artemis brooding, while Zaknafein was warming his hands over the fire. Jarlaxe had warned him that it would be cold on the surface, and the drow would need some time to get used to this.

"Do you want me to take the first watch?" Zaknafein asked after a while, speaking drow again. Artemis startled, looking confused for a moment. He wondered how it was possible that he let his guard so down in Zaknafein's presence.

"We're quite safe here. The only people in this area are peasants, and it isn't yet cold enough to make wild animals attack humans. Or drow," Artemis explained. A few days ago he would probably have grinned at these words, but instead he just continued to stare at the fire. Zaknafein noticed, not for the first time, that the human avoided to look at him.

"If you say so," he answered doubtfully. In the Underdark, every animal was, at every time, a potential danger, but the Weapon Master was certain that he could trust Artemis' judgement. Jarlaxle wouldn't have given him an incompetent guide.

There was again silence for a while. Artemis stared at the flames of their small campfire, Zaknafein looked at Artemis. The tension between them hadn't lessened at all since their last conversation, and what bit of affection Artemis had started to show him back in Menzoberranzan had once again disappeared behind a cold mask. Zaknafein had no intention to accept that.

"In that case," he said, again interrupting Artemis' brooding, "you really should relax."

The human scowled at him and muttered something under his breath, yet Zaknafein couldn't understand the mumbled, inarticulate common.

"You know you're too tense," the drow teased. With his insane grin back on his face, he softly nudged the human's arm. Artemis' other hand came up immediately, grasping Zaknafein's wrist - perfectly honed reflexes, but they only confirmed Zaknafein's words. Artemis was warier than a man who was not in acute danger should be. Having lived in Menzoberranzan for his whole life, Zaknafein knew the value of constant attention, but he knew also the difference between attention and excessive tautness.

"Relax," he repeated, freeing his hand. For a moment he was tempted to touch the human's cheek, but he doubted that Artemis would let him get away with that.

"The surroundings might not be dangerous, but apparently I should be worried about you," Artemis snarled. "You seem to be quite happy to have me for yourself now, out of Jarlaxle's reach."

"I am happy to have you with me," Zaknafein conceded, still grinning. "Can you blame me for that?"

Artemis stared at the drow in amazement. Had Zaknafein just ... paid him a compliment? Not on his qualities as a warrior, but on his character? This damn drow seemed intent on breaking all unwritten rules in Artemis' life. The human couldn't remember the last time anyone had wanted his company. It felt strange, and it unsettled him, all the more so because he could hardly deny that he enjoyed the drow's company, too. However, he had no intention to show that. He would only need some time to get control over himself again, and then these absurd thoughts about Zaknafein would certainly disappear as quickly as they had come.

Zaknafein's fingers slid softly over the back of Artemis' hand, caressing him lightly. Yet he drew back before the human could react.

"I assure you, you have no reason to worry about me, Artemis. I thought you knew that by now. By the way, I'm not Kimmuriel," Zaknafein added, almost as an afterthought, and his eyes seemed to grow darker with anger.

"Kimmuriel? What has he to do with this?" Artemis asked in surprise. He was still not used to Zaknafein's mental leaps - but he was more than glad to talk about anything else than this absurdity of anybody _liking_ him.

"I'm just glad to be out of Menzoberranzan, for many reasons. One of them is that he would hardly have been very ... considerate towards me on our next meeting," Zaknafein answered in an embittered voice, hardly able to keep it from trembling. His voice and eyes expressed clearly enough what he wasn't saying. Artemis' eyes widened slightly - so this was why Zaknafein had been so shaken after his encounter with Kimmuriel, this was what he had meant with his then incomprehensible words.

Artemis felt suddenly guilty for his aggressiveness. After all, Zaknafein hadn't done anything to him. He hadn't even _tried_ to force himself on Artemis, neither in Menzoberranzan nor here. And although Zaknafein was naturally happy over this newest turn of events and their trip to the surface, Artemis was certain that Zaknafein had planned nothing of this. It was, of course, Jarlaxle's doing, and Zaknafein was only trying to make the best out of it. Artemis realised that he should maybe do the same.

The human didn't realise that he was again losing himself in his thoughts, and that he hadn't said anything in the last minutes. He only looked up again when he heard a quiet shuffling - Zaknafein was taking off his weapon belt and chain mail, then he unfurled his bedroll and lay down, his back turned to Artemis.

The human found himself staring at Zaknafein's back, at his soft white hair and the bit of black skin of his neck that he could see. He sighed deeply and looked away before the drow would notice anything. This situation was getting more and more absurd. Why should Zaknafein like him? Nobody had ever liked him, not even his own parents. There was no reason why Zaknafein should be an exception to this.

And even _if _he were - after all, he _was_ insane - Artemis had no desire to return this affection. Liking people, trusting them only made him vulnerable, and he was not lonely or desperate enough to allow himself such a weakness. No matter how much he longed for the drow's closeness - and he couldn't lie to himself and pretend that he didn't desire him - he would have to suppress these thoughts. His life was already disordered enough without a relationship with a mad, unpredictable drow.

Artemis snorted and shook his head. He shouldn't even be thinking about this. Cursing under his breath, he lay down as well, as far away from Zaknafein as possible without missing the fire's heat. He decided to chop off the drow's hand next time that bastard dared to touch him.

"Good night, Artemis," Zaknafein whispered when the human had finally stopped tossing and turning.

Artemis couldn't help but smile, but he had no time to think any further about his reaction. Physical exhaustion made him fall asleep quickly enough.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"Luskan," Artemis growled when he caught sight of the first buildings. His voice was even harder than usual, filled with obvious disgust.

The usually well travelled street they were on was rather deserted; it was still a few hours before sunrise. As soon as Zaknafein had seen the sun on his first day on the surface, he had insisted that they travel at night. Although Jarlaxle had given him an amulet that protected his eyes and his gear from the sunlight, the drow felt still highly uncomfortable at day. Artemis, used to working at night and still wearing the magical earring Vierna had given him, hadn't objected.

Zaknafein stood beside him, the hood of his piwafwi hiding his scowl. For the last three days his humour had been worse than Artemis'. He had expected the surface to be a terrible place, but it was worse than everything he had imagined. It wasn't only the sun - although Zaknafein hated it passionately - but also the wind and the cold. And as if that wasn't enough, the surface was incredibly noisy compared to the silent corridors of the Underdark. Zaknafein felt vulnerable and nervous; the multitude of unknown sounds disconcerted him, and he didn't trust his own senses anymore.

He had spent the first day complaining and grumbling, and even after he had stopped complaining - judging that it was slightly undignified - he had been grumpy, especially when they had reached the road on the previous night. The human stench and filth bothered him, and Artemis had told him that Luskan would be ten times worse. Zaknafein had asked if there was no other road they could take - especially as Artemis himself hadn't looked very happy about the prospect of passing through Luskan - but Artemis had explained that every other road would be an enormous detour.

"Make sure your face and hands remain covered," Artemis said calmly, interrupting the drow's brooding. He had already told this twice to Zaknafein, but he had really no desire to start a conflict with the Luskan authorities. The quicker they got out of the city again, the better. "A drow might be tolerated in Neverwinter and Waterdeep, at least as long as I'm with you, but not in Luskan."

He glared at his companion, and Zaknafein knew what the human was thinking - Artemis was afraid that Zaknafein might lose his temper in the city, or simply decide that a little fight with the city guards might be entertaining. Zaknafein couldn't blame Artemis for not trusting his sanity - Jarlaxle had probably warned him.

But then again, Zaknafein had been amazingly quiet since they had come to the surface, once he had stopped complaining, that is. He was so bad humoured and brooding that he didn't even try to seduce Artemis anymore. Of course, he hadn't given up his plans, he simply hadn't been in the mood to persuade the stubborn assassin. Zaknafein wasn't sure, but he almost had the impression that Artemis had looked disappointed about this renewed distance.

They managed to pass the city walls without major problems. The guards were tired in the early morning and didn't really care who they let pass, and they had definitely no desire to argue once Artemis had given them one of his trademark glares.

Zaknafein kept his hood low and silently followed Artemis, who wanted to lead him to the inn he usually stayed in when he had to pass through Luskan. Just as they were walking through a small, abandoned alleyway, Zaknafein suddenly tensed. It took the human a second longer to hear what had made the drow stop - steps and voices. Nothing distinct, but his instincts told him that danger was ahead.

Hardly a minute later, a group of half a dozen thugs stepped on the street before them. Zaknafein heard Artemis sigh, but unlike his companion he almost appreciated this situation - a fight would be the perfect occasion to vent his frustrations.

"Your money, weapons, valuables," the leader demanded with a heavy accent. Zaknafein assumed that they were foreigners, because their clothing was different from what he had seen on other humans so far. The thugs were coming closer, drawing their weapons - they would have probably looked threatening to lesser fighters.

Zaknafein was still holding himself back, preferring to let Artemis make the decisions. Those men were obviously no match for either of them, but the drow was too cautious to attack. Maybe humans handled these situations differently than drow, and Zaknafein didn't want to draw unnecessary attention on himself and his companion.

"You have about five seconds before my friend here gets angry," Artemis stated slowly, apparently wanting to make sure that Zaknafein could understand his words. Focusing on the thugs and drawing his own weapons he didn't even seem to realise that he was calling his companion his friend. Zaknafein noticed it, however, although he didn't have much time to ponder about it.

The thugs halted for a second, but one of them quickly reached for a throwing dagger. Zaknafein suddenly grabbed his whip and snatched the dagger from the man's hand with one stroke. Artemis was apparently just as stunned by this as their opponents - he had never seen anyone use a whip with such precision.

The assassin said nothing, however, because the fight started immediately. Although none of the thugs was a great fighter, they were handling their weapons quite well and probably supposed that they could deal with two strangers. Artemis quickly drew two of them to him, leaving the other ones to Zaknafein. He wanted to see what this drow could really do: during their short mission in Menzoberranzan, he had been too busy himself to pay much attention to his companion's skill.

Artemis apparently took his time to finish off the two thugs, and Zaknafein didn't fail to notice that his companion was watching him. Unlike in their sparring match he wielded sword and whip instead of two swords, a rare combination, but one that was extremely efficient - in his hands, at least.

Zaknafein quickly disposed of one attacker, but for a second he was being seriously pressed when the other three closed in on him. It was just a moment, though - when his hood slipped down, the thugs halted for a moment, shocked when they realised that they were facing a dark elf. Zaknafein cut down two of his opponents with a rapid manoeuvre, dealing with the last one with almost bored ease.

When it was finally over the drow cleaned his sword and put away his weapons, walking over to Artemis. The fight had exhausted neither of them, but Zaknafein could see a few drops of sweat on the human's front. His dark grey eyes never left the drow, and Zaknafein believed there was almost an expression of relief in them - relief that his companion looked finally less annoyed. The fight had indeed washed away Zaknafein's foul mood of the last days, and apparently this showed on his face.

"You've been watching me," the drow stated, amused rather than angered by his companion's passivity. His voice was low and rough, slightly teasing. The assassin looked too desirable in this moment for Zaknafein to resist.

"I was surprised. I have never seen anyone use a whip like that," Artemis answered, trying to remain as calm as possible. Zaknafein furrowed his brow, but he probably shouldn't be surprised that Artemis tried to draw off the attention from his feelings by focusing on fighting techniques.

"It's fairly uncommon, even in Menzoberranzan," Zaknafein replied, deciding to let him get away with this elusive answer. "I thought it would be a waste to leave such a versatile weapon to brainless priestesses who use it for nothing but lashings."

Artemis couldn't help but grin, despite the uncomfortable feeling Zaknafein's closeness triggered in him. It was so much like Zaknafein to choose the whip just to annoy priestesses by wielding their trademark weapon. His grin disappeared, however, when the drow lifted a hand as if to touch him - but Zaknafein realised at the last moment where they were and took a quick step back, pulling up his hood again.

"We should find ourselves a room, I think," he stated. Artemis swallowed, and Zaknafein enjoyed the effects his slightly lewd tone had on the human. The drow was sure that it was only a matter of time until Artemis would stop fighting his undeniable attraction.

"Two rooms," the assassin grumbled and continued on his way without another word.

* * *

Artemis leaned back in the comfortable chair, allowing himself to enjoy this luxury for a few moments. They had taken two rooms in Artemis' usual inn, and as the owner knew him as a well paying and dangerous customer he hadn't asked any questions about his hooded companion. The innkeeper had brought them meals to their rooms, as the tavern itself was closed in the morning. Artemis had preferred to eat alone - three days of a grumpy Zaknafein, followed by this ridiculous fight that had only shown him again how attractive his damned companion was, had been more than enough for him.

Although the last three days had been unpleasant due to Zaknafein's bad humour, the most recent events confused Artemis even more. He realised that he was hardly able to resist Zaknafein's charm whenever the drow decided to use it. It was most disconcerting for the assassin who prided himself on his perfect self-discipline that Zaknafein's mere presence, his handsome face, his alluring voice, were enough to make him shiver like a love-sick girl. He knew that this attraction went beyond physical desire - Artemis would be able to deal with that - but it was a profound, strong feeling.

He had no problems with being attracted to a male, far from it. It had been years since he had overcome the traumatic events of his childhood and accepted his own preference for men. What was unsettling him was that lust and affection were, for the first time in his life, getting intertwined - not to mention that he had never been as fascinated by anyone as by Zaknafein.

Artemis groaned when he heard a knock on the door, knowing that nobody but Zaknafein could possibly disturb him now. The drow entered only a moment later, closing the door behind him.

"What do you want?" Artemis asked. Zaknafein wasn't wearing his chain mail, and he didn't look very sleepy. He wasn't frowning for once, and the look he gave Artemis was almost ... friendly.

"I'm bored," he stated. "And since you are here, there's no reason why I should be."

Artemis furrowed his brow, not liking the deliberate ambiguity of that answer. What did Zaknafein want? Talk to him, or drag him into his bed?

"You can stay as long as you don't touch me," Artemis said bluntly, continuing when he saw that Zaknafein was going to object. "I mean it. You touch me and you can go back to your room and stare at the walls."

"I have no idea what kind of game you are playing," Zaknafein replied after a while, staring curiously at Artemis. It was obvious that they desired each other, and Zaknafein doubted that this was some power game - he was sure that Artemis regarded him as an equal, and didn't want to establish whatever kind of superiority over him. "But I'm serious enough about this to play it for a while."

"It's not just for a while, Zaknafein," Artemis sighed, still not getting up. "I sleep with whores, not with my travelling companions."

"And you don't want to see me as a whore?" the drow asked hesitantly, trying to guess what Artemis was getting at.

"I suppose that you are no different from me, and I do not wish to be treated like a whore," he said so low that Zaknafein almost didn't understand him. "Don't object, I don't want to talk about this."

Artemis stared at the floor, wondering why he had just said this. Although he was suspicious - Zaknafein remained a drow, after all - he doubted that the Weapon Master would treat him like a whore, or otherwise betray him. He knew that Zaknafein liked him - and that scared him more than the prospect of being mistreated.

Zaknafein looked positively annoyed, but he nodded and simply sat down on Artemis' bed. They were silent for a while, Artemis still trying to sort his feelings out, Zaknafein trying to think of something he could say that wouldn't offend the skittish assassin.

"Jarlaxle told me much about the recent months. About Vierna and Drizzt," Zaknafein said suddenly, and Artemis looked up in surprise when he heard how pained the drow's voice sounded. "That you helped her to catch Drizzt."

"I am still surprised that you don't hate me for that," Artemis said slowly, unsure what Zaknafein was trying to say.

"I understand you too well to hate you," Zaknafein replied cryptically, continuing before Artemis could ask for an explanation. "And if I hated you, I would have to hate Vierna even more."

"You don't?" Artemis asked in surprise. Vierna had been crazy even by drow standards. The assassin was not easy to scare, but he had felt highly uncomfortable, sometimes even frightened in the priestess' presence. He knew that Vierna had been Zaknafein's daughter, but she had still been a devout worshiper of Lolth.

"I can't," Zaknafein said softly and sighed. He had always loved his daughter, even after she had become a priestess and scorned him. Although he believed what Jarlaxle had told him about her, he couldn't blame her. Maybe he would have become like her if he had been a female, forced to serve Lolth.

Artemis stared at him, fascinated by the tender and sad look on Zaknafein's face. Usually he would have called such commitment a weakness, but he saw no weakness in Zaknafein. The drow didn't seem blinded or fooled by his feelings, they didn't make him unreasonable. Having been abused by his own parents Artemis couldn't help but appreciate that Zaknafein loved his children.

"Jarlaxle didn't seem to know much about your previous life," Zaknafein changed the subject again, apparently deciding that there was no point in brooding about his dead daughter. "And I don't know anything about you either."

"There's nothing to know about me," Artemis snorted, scowling. As much as he was fascinated by Zaknafein and his past, he didn't have the slightest desire to talk about himself. Even worse, he didn't _know_ how to talk about himself. He had never opened himself to anyone, and he was afraid that each additional step he made towards Zak would draw him more into these feelings he didn't want.

"But there must be a reason why you're just as miserable as I am," Zaknafein's answer came so fast that the drow couldn't possibly have reflected it thoroughly, and he looked indeed just as shocked about his own words as Artemis.

Artemis just stared at him. His initial reaction would have been anger, denial, outrage. But he realised that Zaknafein wasn't just piercing Artemis' armour, but also his own. Zaknafein was not trying to manipulate him, like Jarlaxle, who revealed the weaknesses of his associates without ever showing his own. His words were no insult, no experiment, but an offer. The drow had probably made it unintentionally, but he didn't seem to regret his words now.

Yet Artemis had no idea how to accept such an offer. He reacted the only way he knew to react, with refusal.

"Why don't you stop this, Zaknafein? It's hopeless, and you should know that even better than me. Caring hurts. No matter how miserable we may be now, it's still better than what might happen to us if we care," he said, but his voice didn't sound even half as convincing and firm as he wanted to.

"You're worth taking a risk," the drow stated simply, and a grin appeared on his features. It was too obvious that Artemis didn't believe what he was saying - the assassin was just trying to hold up his old principles, principles that weren't adapted to this particular situation.

Artemis' eyes widened, but he didn't answer. He was more taken aback than when Zaknafein had kissed him. He was sure that no one had ever said something so affectionate to him, and he doubted that the drow was aware of the importance of his words. For all his calm Zaknafein was probably as confused by his feelings as Artemis.

When the drow slowly got up and walked over to him, Artemis stood up as well, but he didn't fend him off when Zaknafein softly touched his cheek.

"I told you not to -" Artemis started weakly, clinging to their little agreement as if it would save him from his confusion.

"You told me I would have to leave if I touched you. I'm tired, I'm going to return to my room anyway - so I can just as well touch you before I leave," Zaknafein whispered, putting his other hand on Artemis' hip. Artemis didn't move when the drow caressed his face, but when Zaknafein kissed him softly, almost fleetingly, Artemis returned the kiss, albeit hesitantly.

Just as he was realising what he had done and wanted to turn Zaknafein away, the drow made a step back and smirked.

"I'll see you in the evening. You wanted to leave the city as fast as possible, didn't you?" Zaknafein asked with the most innocent voice, but he didn't leave Artemis enough time to answer. He just licked his lips quickly before he turned around and left the room.

Zaknafein knew that he might have obtained more from the assassin if he had stayed, but he preferred to be careful. He would rather wait another few days than spoil his little achievement with rash actions - he had understood by now that Artemis had, for some reason, decided to keep him waiting.

The drow returned to his own room, which was adjacent to Artemis'. He quickly took off his boots and shirt and lay down on his bed, reaching for his glass of wine.

Zaknafein repeated in his head everything Artemis had said this evening, trying to figure out what the human was up to. He could understand that Artemis was suspicious and wouldn't easily engage in a relationship - being drow, Zaknafein was just as convinced that most feelings would be a weakness. But he knew there were exceptions - it was certainly naive and stupid to trust everyone, and friends should be chosen carefully, but that didn't mean that every friendship was a mistake. Zaknafein had never regretted his friendship with Jarlaxle, he had never regretted loving Drizzt. He hadn't even regretted loving Vierna, no matter what she had become.

Caution notwithstanding, he wanted Artemis - in his bed as much as in a serious relationship. Zaknafein wasn't sure what such a relationship would look like - he had never had one - but he wanted to give it a try. If not with Artemis, with whom then?

He perked up his ears when he heard a rustle on the other side of the wall - these humans were obviously incapable of constructing decent buildings. Trying to shut out the other noises around him, like the first voices down on the street, he moved closer to the wall.

Artemis had apparently gone to bed, for Zaknafein could hear him tossing and turning. The drow furrowed his brow when the shuffling stopped, only to be replaced by slowly but constantly accelerating breaths.

A smile lit up on Zaknafein's face when the first moan reached his ears, bringing him the realisation of what his companion was just doing. He would have laughed at the absurdity of this - Artemis doing himself what he could have got from Zaknafein if he had only overcome his pride and fear - if the sounds coming from the next room weren't so perfectly beautiful.

Zaknafein closed his eyes, completely focusing on the deep moans, enjoying the rough sounds that no drow voice would be able to utter, trying to imagine the look of pleasure and lust on Artemis' face ... The last moan, husky and filled with satisfaction, made Zaknafein shudder, and he had to bite on his bottom lip to remain silent.

If he had had any doubts left about Artemis' desires, they would have been gone now. Zaknafein decided that he would have the human before they reached Waterdeep.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

They left Luskan the next evening, just after sunset. The weather had brightened up a bit, offering a last few mild days before winter, and the fact that he wasn't cold anymore improved Zaknafein's humour considerably. What he had heard the night before was, of course, another reason for the drow to be content.

Artemis still seemed gloomy - as usual - but as much as Zaknafein's grin disconcerted him, he still preferred it to the grumbling and scowling of the previous days.

Zaknafein had decided to be discrete about last night - there was no point in embarrassing Artemis even more. He doubted that the human would take a glib remark about his beautiful moaning very well.

The next two days were mostly spent in silence while they were travelling southwards. Sometimes they exchanged a few words about Jarlaxle and Menzoberranzan, and sometimes Artemis had to satisfy the drow's curiosity for his surroundings - although Zaknafein behaved amazingly well and was neither too nervous nor too excited. Artemis didn't even want to imagine what it would be like to travel on the surface with Jarlaxle.

Once they had left Luskan behind them, Zaknafein took off the hood of his _piwafwi_, tired of hiding his face all the time. They got more than a few hostile and fearful glances, but they were mostly left alone, on the road as well as in taverns. It wasn't as if people liked having them around, but all kinds of strange and dangerous creatures were seen along the Swordcoast, and no one had any desire to offend the drow and his scowling companion - whether they recognised the assassin or not.

Still, Artemis chose deliberately rather dubious inns where no questions were asked. As they were sitting in one inn late in the night, halfway between Luskan and Neverwinter, one of the barmaids started to show a surprising interest in them. At first she had just seemed scared, but the two calm men were rather inoffensive compared to the drunk, violent patrons she was used to, no matter how dangerous they looked. She remained quite wary of Entreri - his reputation went far beyond the borders of Calimshan, after all - but Zaknafein apparently fascinated her.

While he was eating his meal Artemis realised that the girl was actually trying to flirt with Zaknafein. She smiled at him whenever she walked past their table, batted her eyelashes, bent forward a bit more than necessary when she put down another bottle of wine, and she looked at him whenever she had a moment, trying to catch his gaze.

To his own surprise Artemis felt incredibly annoyed by this. He glared even more aggressively at the girl than usual, hoping - in vain - that she would take the hint and stay away. It took him a while to realise that he was jealous. Just as he started to question this feeling Zaknafein, who had remained silent so far, suddenly spoke up.

"Artemis? That woman ... what does she want from me?" he asked quietly, despite the fact that nobody around them could possibly understand drow. For a moment Artemis himself wondered if his language skills failed him - Zaknafein couldn't seriously ask this. Artemis stared at him, dumbfounded, but then he reminded himself that drow females showed their interest in a male more aggressively.

The assassin sighed deeply; he had hoped that Zaknafein would simply ignore her. To avoid dragging this probably awkward and definitely unwanted conversation on any longer than absolutely necessary, he just said bluntly, "I think she wants to sleep with you."

It was Zaknafein's turn to look astonished; the idea had obviously never entered his mind. His gaze went to the smiling woman, then back to Artemis.

"What? Why didn't she simply say that?"

"Because most humans would consider that rude. Human women just smile and wait for a reaction," Artemis explained as neutrally as he managed. The situation was completely absurd - Entreri, who had never had any interest in women, explaining to an extremely experienced drow patron why a girl was smiling at him. He decided to pay Jarlaxle back for putting him in this kind of situations.

"She is pretty, no?" Zaknafein asked after pondering on Artemis' reply.

The assassin groaned and cast a look at the girl - she was about twenty, blond and, while not a perfect beauty, quite cute.

"Most men would think so, I guess," Artemis sighed, wondering why he was even playing along. Zaknafein looked suddenly highly intrigued, and the confusion in his red eyes was beginning to give way to desire. A gaze that Artemis had grown used to feeling on himself - it made him unreasonably angry that the drow was looking like this at somebody else.

"And what kind of a reaction do human women expect?" Zaknafein asked, oblivious to the anger in Artemis' eyes.

"Depends on the woman," the assassin growled curtly. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should tell Zaknafein that he didn't want him to respond to the girl's advances. But even as this idea entered his mind he knew that he could never say anything like this. It would mean admitting that he wanted Zaknafein for himself, and Artemis was far from ready to do this. Unable to cope with the situation any longer he suddenly got up and left for his room, not caring how undignified his exit would look.

As soon as he had locked the door behind himself he started pacing through his room, still seething with anger. He knew that this was absurd - he had never been jealous in his whole life - but the idea that Zaknafein might sleep with that girl made him sick. Not because she would get what he wanted - Artemis knew that only his refusal stood between him and the drow - but because Zaknafein wanted her.

Artemis stopped suddenly when the realisation hit him - Zaknafein had obviously no difficulty replacing him. If the assassin rejected him, Zaknafein didn't mind satisfying his needs with someone else. His anger was suddenly replaced by a feeling of disappointment and betrayal.

Artemis sat down on his bed, elbows resting on his knees. He scolded himself for ever expecting anything else than this - he had known that caring hurt, and the dull pain he felt now showed him clearly how much his affection for Zaknafein had already grown, how much it had already weakened him. He wished almost desperately that he wouldn't have to face the drow again, but he knew that he had no choice but to accompany him to Waterdeep. Jarlaxle was certainly spying on them every once in a while, and he wouldn't allow Artemis to leave Zaknafein.

Sighing deeply he started to undress and lay down, forcing the bleak thoughts out of his mind. He had learnt as a child to shut out his personal turmoil - back then it had been the only way to get some rest, and no matter how different his problems were now, it helped him again to fall asleep.

* * *

Artemis was just packing his bag the next evening when he heard a knock on the door. The assassin furrowed his brow - Zaknafein usually waited for Artemis to come to him when he was up, as the human needed more sleep. Still, he opened the door to find Zaknafein standing there, a slightly confused expression on his face. Despite his lingering anger Artemis shivered when the drow came in and accidentally - or purposely, given that it was Zaknafein - brushed his arm.

"Why did you leave so suddenly yesterday?" Zaknafein asked, plopping down on a chair in a surprisingly ungraceful movement.

"You obviously didn't need me to enjoy yourself," Artemis hissed, surprised at his own words and the hurt in his tone. "Was she worth your time?"

"She was ... submissive. Quite interesting for a female. Apart from that, she was rather boring," Zaknafein replied with a shrug. Artemis couldn't help but wonder if the drow was mocking him, if this was supposed to be some kind of punishment for the constant rejections. But there was no mischief, no cruelty in the red eyes, only confusion. Artemis realised that Zaknafein hadn't wanted to hurt him - he had simply no idea that his behaviour could possibly offend his companion.

Artemis probably shouldn't be surprised. He knew enough about drow society to suspect that faithfulness was hardly a concept drow valued or even knew. This fact however did nothing to numb the pain. His jealousy stayed, a new feeling he could hardly understand himself, let alone explain it to someone else. Artemis just remained silent, rummaging in his belongings as if he hadn't finished packing yet.

After several minutes of silence Zaknafein suddenly stood up an walked over to him. He looked into Artemis' dark eyes when the human turned towards him, scrutinising him for a few moments.

"You are upset ... because I slept with her?" Zaknafein asked curiously.

Artemis just frowned, wondering if he had lost his ability to hide his feelings or if Zaknafein just read him better than anyone else. He wanted to deny the drow's words, but he doubted that he could end this conversation with an evasive lie. Not to mention that his efforts to conceal his feelings were becoming more and more pathetic and ineffective. He simply nodded, refusing to look at him.

"Why? You turn me down and are angry when I go somewhere else to get what I need?"

His words made perfect sense, and Artemis knew it, but his reason had somehow abandoned him last night and refused to come back since then.

"I'm angry because you don't care if you are with me or with some worthless barmaid," Artemis snapped back. Why was he even arguing with Zaknafein, why was he putting up with this instead of avoiding every personal conversation like he usually did? He knew the answer, though, and it was as simple as it was humiliating. He cared. He cared about Zaknafein, about what Zaknafein said and did.

"Oh, please. Do you really think I'd choose some female over you if I actually had the choice? I took her only because I couldn't have you," Zaknafein replied, bewildered by the human's behaviour, and a hint of annoyance had appeared in his voice.

Artemis just stared at him - Zaknafein was convinced there was nothing wrong with what he had done. The assassin opened his mouth to reply, but he could only think of incredibly jealous, human phrases the drow wouldn't understand. Phrases Artemis himself had always discarded as pathetic and meaningless, the pleading of the weak, while he knew so much better: if he wanted something, he had to take it, not to ask for it.

He snorted quietly, too angry to continue on this line of thought right now. Instead he put on his coat and picked up his belongings.

"We should leave," he said icily.

* * *

Artemis spent the whole night brooding, silently walking at Zaknafein's side and ignoring him. The drow seemed equally absorbed in his thoughts, probably still trying to figure out what his companion was thinking. In the early morning hours, just before they reached an inn, the assassin's pondering led him to a conclusion: he knew by now that there was no point in denying his affection and lust for Zaknafein, and as his previous strategy of ignoring and suppressing them hadn't really worked so far, the logical thing to do was to heed them. He actually managed to convince himself that his decision was perfectly rational: he was simply accepting what he could not change or ignore. Artemis had always been a pragmatist.

Still, he had no idea what he should _do_ now - simply telling Zaknafein that he had suddenly changed his mind was hardly an option, not for someone as introverted as Artemis.

The uncomfortable silence lasted throughout their meal in the next tavern on the road, but Artemis' musing ended abruptly when their waitress started to smile at Zaknafein, and the drow - as always a quick learner - cast her in return a quite charming glance.

Artemis got up from the table as soon as he had finished eating and went to his room as on the previous evening. Zaknafein might not understand the reasons for Artemis' jealousy, but that was no excuse for making him jealous again. Artemis cursed loudly once he was alone before he simply sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, more desperate than angry. He had resisted the temptation for so long, and now that he was finally inclined to yield to it, Zaknafein was fooling around with barmaids instead of tempting him.

About half an hour later he heard a knock on the door before it was opened - in his anger he had apparently forgotten to lock it. Artemis almost gasped when Zaknafein came in: the drow had obviously just taken a bath and not bothered to put his armour back on. He was only wearing soft leather trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt that hang loosely on his shoulders, exposing most of his torso. His hair was still wet and uncombed, the white strands clinging to his neck, chest and forehead. A few droplets of water had fallen down from his hair onto his chest, lending the black skin a moist glimmer. For a few seconds Artemis forgot his anger, feeling nothing but a hot surge of desire.

"I didn't even talk to her," Zaknafein said instead of a greeting, careful not to show how pleased he was to see the hungry look in the human's eyes. "I left just after you, took a bath and came here."

The drow's voice put an end to Artemis' mindless staring, replaced it with a frown, but then Artemis nodded slowly. Zaknafein had come here so quickly after him that he couldn't have done more than take a bath. The joy he felt about this was just as excessive as his anger had been the night before.

Zaknafein's mouth curled into an anticipating smirk while he slowly walked across the room - bare-footed, as Artemis noticed only now - and stopped just in front of the bed Artemis was sitting on. The human found himself suddenly facing the drow's bare abdomen - finely honed muscles under pitch-black, smooth skin - while the soft, enticing scent he had already noticed each time they were close filled his nostrils. For a moment he was tempted to lean forward and kiss the perfect skin, curious what it would feel and taste like, curious how Zaknafein would react.

Artemis silently cursed himself for his thoughts and quickly got up, regretting that he hadn't done this earlier, but it hardly ameliorated his situation. Zaknafein was so close that Artemis' chest almost touched the drow's now. The assassin felt nervous, not quite sure what to do. He was far from inexperienced, but the prospect of sleeping with someone he cared about was deeply unsettling - because suddenly his own needs and desires were not the only ones that counted.

Zaknafein, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any doubts about this. He slowly lifted his right hand and touched Artemis' cheek, then he moved on to the leather band that tied back the black hair and took it off, running his fingers through the slightly curly strands. Zaknafein smiled a bit when he noticed that Artemis' face looked somehow younger when it was framed by the shoulder-length hair, softer and more relaxed.

"You won't regret this," he whispered, slowly wrapping his left arm around Artemis' waist to pull him close. "I assure you, I'm very good at this."

Zaknafein grinned a bit and captured Artemis' lips immediately, almost crushing the human in his arms. There was just a small moment of hesitation, but then the kiss was returned, not shyly like the last time, but determinedly, claiming more. It was Artemis who broke the kiss, not to push Zaknafein away, but to explore the drow's neck and throat with his lips, finally discarding the last doubts.

A small, triumphant grin appeared on Zaknafein's face, and he paused for a moment to savour the feeling of hungry lips and rough stubble against his tender skin. It tickled a bit, but it wasn't exactly unpleasant. Soon enough he started to unbutton Artemis' shirt, shoving it off his shoulders before he closed the gap between them again.

His experiences with humans were rather limited, and just as Artemis was fascinated by the drow's smooth, flawless skin, Zaknafein marvelled at the raw strength he could feel in the human's body. Zaknafein himself was anything but scrawny, but still much more slender than the assassin.

After the hesitation of the last weeks Zaknafein would have expected the human to be shier. Far from it, Artemis was no less demanding than Zaknafein, his hands and lips curiously exploring the drow's body, each touch revealing need and lust that had been repressed for too long. Zaknafein's fingers moved a bit slower, carefully probing and trying to find the most sensitive spots on the other's body.

Soon he got tired of standing, though, and gave Artemis a playfully rough push. Artemis fell back onto the bed and seemed slightly surprised for a moment, but Zaknafein was already straddling him before the human could react. The drow softly rubbed his groin against Artemis', pleased when his touch was answered with a deep moan that seemed to vibrate through Artemis' whole body.

Zaknafein leant forward and trailed his tongue across Artemis' throat, and the responsive shivering told him that he had just found a very sensitive spot. He kept the human pressed onto his back, and to his surprise Artemis didn't even struggle, apparently content with a more submissive role. Nonetheless he didn't remain passive; quick fingers were already undoing the buttons of Zaknafein's trousers, and the drow disengaged himself for a moment to get rid of them.

Sitting up he paused briefly when he felt Artemis' hand on his abdomen, before it slid down, and an expression of fascination crossed the assassin's face when his fingers touched the white, unusually soft pubic hair. Zaknafein smirked, but then he decided that staring could wait. He grabbed Artemis' shoulder and hauled him up in a sitting position, wrapped his arms around him and kissed him. They freed Artemis from his trousers, somewhat awkwardly as Zaknafein refused to loosen his embrace.

Artemis played along willingly. As much as he was obsessed with staying in control of every other situation in his life, he enjoyed it immensely to give up control in bed. When Zaknafein pushed him again on his back, Artemis made no resistance, although he pulled Zaknafein determinedly on top of him. To his disappointment the drow evaded his lips when Artemis leant in for another kiss, but this feeling was replaced by anticipation when Zaknafein slowly slid down his body, lips and tongue trailing wet lines on his torso while his strong and yet narrow hands moved to Artemis' thighs.

Artemis gave Zaknafein a questioning look, but when the drow just licked over his lips Artemis closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow. He soon found out that Zaknafein's amused words were entirely true - the drow was indeed extremely good at this. Every clear thought left Artemis' mind the moment Zaknafein's mouth reached its destination, and after the long abstinence of the last months it didn't take long until Artemis found his satisfaction.

He opened his eyes a few moments later, when he felt Zaknafein's lips on his own again. The drow shivered in his arms, and the urging look in Zaknafein's eyes told him that he certainly didn't feel like waiting any longer.

Artemis took a deep breath and looked around, his eyes searching the room. Zaknafein seemed confused by this, but his eyes lit up when Artemis stretched out to grab a small vial that lay on the floor, not far from the bed. It contained the oil Artemis used for his leather gear and which had a rather unpleasant smell, but it would have to do - he was definitely not getting up now to find something more appropriate.

The assassin decided to ignore Zaknafein's obvious impatience for a moment and drew him into a long, deep kiss, for the first time truly taking the time to explore the other's mouth. Zaknafein played along, among other things because he wasn't sure yet how dominant Artemis would allow him to be. The human sighed contently when their lips parted, and handed Zaknafein the vial. Despite his earlier satisfaction Artemis looked still rather aroused, and an almost dirty grin appeared on his face.

"Your turn," he mouthed soundlessly, his right hand darting between Zaknafein's legs. The drow drew in a sharp breath, but he stopped the human after only a few strokes. With one determined movement he flipped him onto his stomach, pinning him down with his weight while he opened the vial.

* * *

"Haven't you seen enough already?"

Rai-Guy's face was a mask of pure disgust when he glanced a last time at the scrying pool, just as Zaknafein's hands moved determinedly to the human's waistband. He looked up at Kimmuriel, who was standing at his side, and sighed in relief when the psionicist nodded.

The cleric quickly ended the spell, his eyes fixed on Kimmuriel's face. The psionicist's gaze was still on the now dark scrying pool, and he looked pensive, intrigued.

"So, Zaknafein has finally managed to get that human in his bed," he said softly, more to himself than to his partner.

"Lolth knows why he wanted that," Rai-Guy snorted, and his words made Kimmuriel smirk.

"I find it much more intriguing that he actually _likes_ that scum. Which is too bad for him," the psionicist replied, his wicked grin saying more than any words could have. By caring about Entreri Zaknafein made himself vulnerable - a weakness they could maybe exploit.

"It's obvious why I have a problem with him. Berg'inyon's hatred for him is not surprising either. But you? What does bother you so much about that Do'Urden?" Rai-Guy asked. He had gladly played along when Kimmuriel had asked him to have an eye on Zaknafein and Entreri as soon as they had left Menzoberranzan, but he still hadn't figured out why the psionicist seemed so obsessed with them. Or, more precisely, with Zaknafein - Entreri was only _iblith_, hardly worth a thought if it were not for his connection with Zaknafein.

"His choice of friends," Kimmuriel said calmly, but there was an annoyed ring in his usually even voice that betrayed his anger. Rai-Guy chuckled, ignoring the angry look Kimmuriel gave him. He hadn't failed to notice Kimmuriel's barely restrained gasp when he had seen Zaknafein almost naked in that scrying pool.

"You want him," the cleric stated with obvious amusement. "Then why don't you just take him?"

"Because that would be pointless," Kimmuriel said and smirked, leaning against the table and licking his lips. "With his pretty face and that perfect body, Zaknafein must have been through everything priestesses can think of. He'll probably laugh a rape off like he'd ignore a little scratch in a fight. That bastard insulted me, resisted me ... and I want him to pay for that."

It was rare for Kimmuriel to let even a hint of an emotion show, but right now his anger seemed almost tangible. Rai-Guy found the vicious gleam in those dark-red eyes extremely enticing. He ran a hand over Kimmuriel's still covered chest before he let his hand glide under the shirt, never taking his eyes off Kimmuriel's face.

"What about Jarlaxle? You said yourself that we can't break his toys."

"I don't want to break them. I simply want to humiliate Zaknafein ... I want him to reconsider his mistakes ... Jarlaxle can hardly keep me from doing that."

Kimmuriel closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling of those nimble fingers on his skin. If he had known how useful and enjoyable Rai-Guy was, Kimmuriel would have been much more supportive of Jarlaxle's plotting to "acquire" him.

"Include Berg'inyon in your plans; I'm sure Zaknafein would be _delighted_ by a demeaning encounter with his arch-rival's little brother," Rai-Guy said, his voice dropping to a low, hard whisper. A wide smile spread over Kimmuriel's face, so devoid of warmth that it would have scared most people more than every scowl.

"I could make him yield to me, or to Berg'inyon ... Nothing must scare a proud, arrogant fighter like him as much as being incapable of controlling his body and mind."

The psionicist seemed quite pleased with his own idea, and after another moment of musing he suddenly grabbed the collar of Rai-Guy's robe and pulled him on his feet, in the same movement starting to shove him towards the bed.

"Don't forget that he needs some punishment for his heresy as well." Rai-Guy's face shortly contorted with anger when he remembered the way Zaknafein had spoken about Lolth. He offered no resistance, however, when Kimmuriel pushed him on the bed and straddled him.

"You'll get your share, don't worry," Kimmuriel promised while opening the cleric's robe. "Just keep talking, tell me what you want to do to him ... I find it quite ... inspiring."

* * *

Artemis lay on his stomach, eyes closed, his breathing still a bit faster than usual. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so perfectly satisfied, so content. The act itself had been a bit rushed after the long wait, it had been over almost too quickly, and yet Artemis didn't feel like anything had lacked. Zaknafein had been nothing short of amazing, combining a very dominant attitude with considerable skill and the will to satisfy his partner as much as himself.

The assassin slowly opened his eyes when he felt long fingers sliding over his sweaty back, and looked up to find Zaknafein sitting beside him, apparently already recovered. The drow smirked a bit, but he too seemed quite content. Artemis reached out to touch Zaknafein's thigh, running his thumb tenderly over the hot skin. They stayed like this for several minutes, Artemis' eyes wandering over the drow's slender body, while he was still revelling in the memory of feeling Zaknafein inside him.

But after a while Artemis sat up as well, running a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to say to a man he had just slept with and who wasn't a stranger. For a moment he almost missed the uncomplicated, impersonal sex he was used to. Yet with all those prostitutes it had never been anything else but physical satisfaction, while there was something more to this ... although he couldn't pin down what it was.

"Do you want me to leave?" Zaknafein asked suddenly. His voice was calm now, but a bit huskier than usual. Artemis looked down at his hand that was still resting on Zaknafein's thigh, his tanned fingers seeming almost white against the black skin. He had always felt a bit awkward touching those whores afterwards, but touching Zaknafein now felt perfectly ... _right_.

"Do you want to leave?" His sounded insecure, at least to his own ears, and he trembled a bit when Zaknafein softly lifted his chin to look him in the eyes. The drow hesitated for a moment, but then he simply shook his head.

"Then stay," Artemis whispered almost soundlessly, feeling his own heartbeat accelerate again - but this time it was nervousness, not arousal. He allowed Zaknafein to pull him with him when the drow lay down.

They weren't really embracing each other, just lying close and touching fleetingly, Artemis' head resting against Zaknafein's shoulder. It was dark in the room, except for the rays of sunshine that fell in at the edges of the curtain - it was bright day by now. Artemis felt suddenly very tired and exhausted, and he quickly closed his eyes in the hope of finding some sleep.

But he had been sleeping alone for so long that Zaknafein's closeness soon bothered him. He shifted repeatedly in the drow's loose embrace, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, and even once he had forced himself to lie still - knowing that Zaknafein could hardly sleep if Artemis kept moving - the feeling of a warm, soft body so close made him uneasy.

"Can't sleep?" Zaknafein whispered, more than half an hour after their previous words. Artemis opened his eyes to see a weak smile on the drow's lips. He almost expected Zaknafein to be angry, but the drow seemed rather relieved; as tired as he looked Zaknafein had obviously not managed to slip into reverie either.

Almost as if they had reached a silent agreement they suddenly disengaged from each other, each one retreating to one side of the bed, leaving as much space between them as possible. Zaknafein lay down flat on his back while Artemis curled up a bit on his side, his back to the drow.

The soft sound of regular breathing next to him still disturbed Artemis for a while, but he got quickly used to it and soon found it almost comforting and calming. He knew that he would need much more time until this would be even halfway normal for him, but for the first time in months he felt actually optimistic. For the first time in his _life_ he felt like he had the opportunity to have a relationship that was worth a try.

When he finally fell asleep, there was a hint of a smile on his lips.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

For once Zaknafein was grateful that his human companion needed more rest than him. It gave him the most welcome opportunity to contemplate Artemis without having the assassin get uneasy and snap at him. Artemis had turned on his back in his sleep, and his body was completely uncovered.

Zaknafein sat up, careful not to shift his weight too much. Fortunately the human just stirred for a second before he relaxed again and continued to sleep. His face was only slightly less gloomy when he slept, but at least his mouth wasn't twisted into the usual scowl. Zaknafein had never realised before that Artemis actually had quite beautifully shaped lips. The stubble on his cheeks had grown overnight, and together with his dishevelled hair it gave him a more relaxed and more ... 'human' look that replaced the calm aura of perfect control.

Zaknafein's gaze roamed over Artemis' body, taking his time to contemplate what his hands and lips had already explored earlier. The assassin's body was flawless, the monument of a life of self-discipline. His muscles were more pronounced than a drow's without taking anything away from his slender gracefulness. Zaknafein discovered to his surprise that the man had hardly any scars, and the few he had were already so pale that they had to be several years old. Either the assassin had never been seriously injured - unlikely for a fighter with his experience - or he had always had magical healing. The drow hadn't noticed this absence of scars before, probably because the soft hair on the human's skin had drawn his attention on them.

Zaknafein smiled, a calm, content smile that lacked its usual sarcasm and bitterness. He didn't expect Artemis to turn into a more affectionate man all of a sudden - nor did he want him to - but he was sure that something had changed last night. He just wasn't sure what exactly their already odd relationship had turned into.

When Artemis woke up Zaknafein felt a short moment of anxiety, not knowing how the assassin would react. Artemis sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes before he gave Zaknafein a curious look. The drow tried to read the expression in those dark eyes: uncertainty, hesitation, surprise, and even a hint of shame.

Intrigued and confused Zaknafein put a hand on one stubbly cheek and leant in for a kiss, but Artemis turned his head aside.

"We both have no idea what we are getting ourselves into," Artemis said quietly, his voice restrained and at the same time trembling, as if he had to force himself to speak.

"No, we don't," Zaknafein admitted easily and lifted Artemis' chin to look him in the eyes. "But it doesn't matter. I don't need a word for this to enjoy it."

He made a pause and slid closer to Artemis. "We took a risk and it worked out perfectly so far. No reason to retreat now. You don't run away when you're winning."

"Am I winning?" Artemis said, and he looked as if he truly expected an answer.

"You are. It's a curious game we're playing - either we both win or we both lose."

"This is insane," Artemis said, but he didn't sound angry or disdainful, rather disbelieving, as if he couldn't understand how he had ended up here - nor why he didn't want to get away.

"Insanity is a good way to cope with reality," the drow grinned.

"That sounds like Jarlaxle," Artemis snorted. He didn't mean it as a compliment.

"Well, sometimes he _is_ right."

Artemis' eyes widened, the emotions chased away by calculating suspiciousness.

"Do you think -"

"- that he set us up?" Zaknafein finished for him and laughed. "Definitely. It was too obvious. He wanted us to meet each other, to get closer ... and given that Jarlaxle thinks that few things are as enjoyable as sex, he probably wanted us to sleep with each other as well. And to be honest - I don't mind that he manipulated us. Not at all."

Artemis didn't answer, but he didn't feel half as outraged and angry at the meddling mercenary as he ought to be. At least, he didn't resist when Zaknafein tried again to kiss him, but returned the kiss for a moment before he got up and started to dress.

Zaknafein couldn't blame him - after all, they had to travel on, not to spend the night in bed. He got out of bed lazily, put on his breeches and walked over to Artemis who was just taking his razor out of his bag. Zaknafein wrapped his arms around the human and rested his chin on the shoulder of the slightly smaller man, looking at him in the mirror.

"Why do you shave it off?" he mumbled and licked playfully over his cheek . "I like it," he added, running his hand over Artemis' still bare abdomen. Artemis turned his head to look at him and furrowed his brow.

"It is rough," he said confusedly, but Zaknafein only shrugged. "And it looks scruffy," the assassin added and freed himself from the drow's embrace.

"I have seen humans with beards who don't look scruffy," Zaknafein said with another shrug and put on his shirt. "And that stubble of yours feels nice on my skin. Oh - and I like it when you bite me."

He smirked a last time at the man and left to return to his own, unused room, where he had left his other belongings.

Standing in front of his mirror, Artemis felt himself blush, and he was glad that Zaknafein had left instead of making more ... inappropriate comments. The assassin looked at himself at the mirror, running his fingertips over the stubble on his upper lip and chin. Maybe Zaknafein was right ...

Artemis scowled and quickly started to shave before he would get stupid ideas. He was _not_ going to grow a beard because Zaknafein liked it. He hadn't remained unmarried to have his drow lover act like his wife.

Strangely enough it didn't even strike him as curious right now that he thought of Zaknafein as his lover. Instead of freeing him of his desires the last night had only intensified them. Artemis wouldn't have imagined it possible for someone to have such skills, not in his most decadent dreams.

Principles or not, he knew that this was only the beginning.

* * *

"You know what, Artemis?" Zaknafein said several hours later. They were sitting on a clearing not far from the road. It was about midnight, and as every night they were having a short break.

Fortunately Zaknafein had had the decency not to touch Artemis in public - the assassin would have killed him for that. But he wouldn't have needed to worry: no drow would ever show affection in front of strangers. But now they were alone, and given how Zaknafein was looking at him Artemis wondered if he should worry.

"We should spar more often," the drow continued and took a sip from the waterskin. He was speaking rather quickly, but Artemis had by now grown used to it. "These roads are boringly safe, and I enjoyed our little match back in Menzoberranzan. Maybe I could teach you something," he explained with that half happy, half insane smile.

"I liked you better when you were talking less," Artemis growled. He felt uneasy. He wanted to touch Zaknafein, he wanted to see the tenderness of the last night in his eyes again. He felt his heart beating faster only by looking at the drow, but he certainly wasn't going to admit that. He couldn't allow himself to be _that _weak.

"Then keep me from talking." Zaknafein's voice had dropped to a husky, seductive whisper, but instead of kissing him, as Artemis almost expected, the Weapon Master stood up and drew his swords. Artemis glared at him - this wasn't exactly what he would call a break - but he remembered well how much he had enjoyed their last, and so far only, sparring match. Not to mention that a distraction would do him well.

He got up and readied his sword and dagger, paused for a second and then engaged the drow with a quick routine attack. It was, as expected, fended off with a parade that was just as simple, but Zaknafein somehow, impossibly, turned it into a counterattack that had Artemis on his heels in a second.

Zaknafein immediately started to press him hard, less elegantly than Drizzt, but quicker and with more strength. A warrior, not a dancer, as Zaknafein himself had once said.

Although it required all of his concentration to block the whirling swords Artemis noticed, with some satisfaction, that Zaknafein was soon sweating as well. The drow's attacks came more and more quickly, and while Zaknafein soon stopped his unusual manoeuvres that could only be fended off with some improvisation, his onslaught was now so fast that Artemis found himself dodging almost as many blows as he was blocking.

The assassin wondered if Zaknafein was still holding back or if this was his best, but it didn't matter anyway: Zaknafein's left-hand sword slipped past Artemis' defences. It stopped just as the tip nicked the leather vest over Artemis' heart - the Weapon Master had trained enough soldiers to know how to defeat without killing his opponent. Still, Artemis froze and stared wide-eyed at the drow, and for a moment he was sure that Zaknafein had only played with him all the time, that he would kill him now.

Zaknafein snorted and sheathed his swords, breathing heavily, his face glimmering with sweat. Artemis suddenly realised that the drow looked annoyed.

"You could have stopped me if your right hand had been a bit faster. There was nothing complicated about this move, you were just not quick enough," Zaknafein snapped.

Artemis' eyes narrowed, and he felt the sudden desire to gut Zaknafein. To make sure he wouldn't do something he'd regret later he put away his weapons. He wished he could dismiss the drow's words, but he knew that Zaknafein was right ... he knew that Zaknafein had been Drizzt's teacher.

"I wouldn't mind if you were anyone else, but you ... you _could_ do better. You're wasting your own potential if you remain so tensed up," Zaknafein continued, his voice now a bit softer.

Artemis' anger slowly dissipated, and he realised that he wasn't really feeling humiliated. He had known that Zaknafein would beat him before their fight had even started. And Zaknafein's advice had already fascinated him the first time he'd heard it. His defeat against Drizzt had broken him, but this was different. This was an opportunity that fuelled his ambition. He remembered one of the rare sparring matches of his youth: he had lost against Pasha Basadoni's then prime assassin, and this had only made him work harder. It was the same now: his failure had shown him the limits of his skill, but also that those limits were not unchangeable.

"Artemis." Zaknafein's voice, now downright tender, brought him back into the present. "Did I offend you?" the drow asked insecurely. It was the first time he had given advice to someone who wasn't an inexperienced student or a lesser fighter, but a capable warrior in his own right. Artemis seemed to think about that, but then he shook his head.

He suddenly felt Zaknafein's hand on his hip, pulling him closer.

"It's only a little problem I can easily take care off tonight. Just leave it to me," he whispered huskily, his hot breath brushing Artemis' sweaty skin. The drow's voice sent shivers through his body, enthralling him so much that he didn't even wonder how Zaknafein had gone from anger to concern to seduction in mere minutes.

Warm lips touched his cheek for a split second before the Weapon Master drew back and grinned. Artemis frowned a bit, but he knew that it was better that way. He didn't want to know what would happen if Zaknafein kept this up, and they still wanted to reach the next village tonight.

The thought of their next stay in a tavern almost filled Artemis with anxiety. While he undoubtedly looked forward to it, Zaknafein's words also confused him. What exactly was the drow planning to do?

But even more importantly, Artemis was ashamed of the extent his feelings and desires had taken. Since he had given in to Zaknafein he almost wanted him more than before. He felt helpless, disarmed by his lust. And at the same time the fact that he couldn't even be angry about the drow's arrogant words, about his 'advice', was a painful reminder that he wasn't just sleeping with his handsome travelling companion, but that he _liked_ him. Maybe that scared him even more than the fact that he wanted to get into bed with Zaknafein as quickly as possible.

Artemis felt as if he had to prove to himself that he was able to wait. Therefore he didn't accompany Zaknafein to their room when they reached a small village in the morning and took a room in an inn. He said he would need to go to the market to buy some supplies, and while Zaknafein frowned, he didn't object.

The drow watched Artemis leave the tavern after the assassin had paid. He was a bit annoyed that Artemis didn't come with him immediately. He knew that the human wanted him, wanted to repeat what they had done last night ... but Zaknafein also knew, better than anyone else, how important it was to get some time on one's own. It would have been a bad idea to pressure Artemis.

Therefore he had let the assassin leave and gone to the room alone. He took a sip from the wine he had taken upstairs before he put the glass back on the nightstand. Weary after a long night's walk he started to take off his armour and soon sank onto the bed, only clad in his trousers and a thin shirt.

A few moments later there was a sudden puff of sparkling smoke, and then Jarlaxle was sitting in the desk chair, a goblet of wine in hand. Zaknafein almost jumped out of bed, but he relaxed immediately when he recognised his old friend.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," the mercenary said, looking at Zaknafein shrewdly. He raised his goblet in a little toast and took a delicate sip. Zaknafein smiled slyly, now sitting upright.

"Yes, you are. I just hid Artemis under the bed," he replied with a grin, knowing very well that it was hardly a coincidence that Jarlaxle showed up as soon as Artemis left. "One day I will kill you accidentally if you keep startling me like that."

Jarlaxle shrugged, hardly seeming concerned. He smiled and took another sip of his wine.

"If Artemis were under the bed, I think you would be there as well." He added with a chuckle, "Not that I've been spying. I'm glad to see you have your old stamina, by the way."

"Of course not, you would never do that," Zaknafein said and shook his head, as if the very idea of Jarlaxle spying on someone was inconceivable. "Just like Artemis probably wouldn't want to have me in interesting places like under the bed. I am sure you are also glad that your little plan worked out so perfectly. We played right into your hands, didn't we?"

Zaknafein laughed, not even slightly angry. "Although I have to wonder just how much you have seen."

Jarlaxle grinned. "Enough to know that my plan did, as you say, work out perfectly." He raised his goblet. "Cheers."

He took a mightier swallow, and then said, "I'm here because, although I could ask Artemis how you two are getting along, he wouldn't tell me. Now you, you and I go as far back as friends can go. Surely you'll tell me how you two are getting along?" He gave Zaknafein his best 'I'm harmless, tell me tell me tell me' look.

Zaknafein chuckled and took a sip from his wine as well.

"If you have to ask you either had work to do, or you are less curious and indiscreet than I thought. Did you see enough to regret that you didn't claim him for yourself?" Zaknafein asked with a dirty grin.

Jarlaxle made a face and waved a hand dismissively. "No, no. I don't need those details. They're moot, pointless. Physical attraction is physical attraction. I mean to know the part I can't see with my eyes. How do you feel about each other? How does he feel? What does he make you feel?"

Zaknafein's grin disappeared, and he looked more uncomfortable now. He would have preferred to talk about pointless details, it would have been easier.

"I don't know what he feels. But I suppose that a man like Artemis needs another reason than physical attraction to give in to his lust for me. He has to feel _somethin_g." Zaknafein purposely overlooked the question about his own feelings, although he knew of course that Jarlaxle would make him talk, somehow. Just like he always did.

Jarlaxle looked at him sympathetically. "What do you think he feels? Or..." He swirled the wine in his goblet. "What do you _wish_ he felt?"

"I want him to care about ... about _this_. I don't want him to leave me. I don't think he will ... not yet. But he doesn't know me yet." Zaknafein sounded confused, and he looked suddenly rather tired. He hadn't thought about this before Jarlaxle had asked. Until yesterday night he had just tried to think of ways to seduce Artemis, and since he had managed he had been too happy and content to rack his brains about what Artemis might feel. The assassin hadn't got angry or distant after their shared night, that had been enough for Zaknafein so far.

Jarlaxle set his goblet down and put his chin in his hand. "He doesn't know about your games with Drizzt."

"Games?" Zaknafein snorted and gave Jarlaxle an incredulous look. "I almost _killed_ Drizzt! And caring about Drizzt made me even more insane than I had already been. Already before Drizzt was born I was ... unpredictable. Even for myself. You know that, but Artemis doesn't. He doesn't know what I'm capable of."

"I am right when I say I am hearing that you don't want to let him find out?" Jarlaxle asked.

"Of course I don't want to let him find out! Why would I want him to know that I am -" Zaknafein didn't finish his sentence and just buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. "But he will find out. I am bound to lose my temper some day, and I'm afraid he won't put up with my insanity, unlike you and Drizzt."

"Because he has already suffered too much insanity?" Jarlaxle asked quietly. He took a sip of his wine. "In his childhood ... or in his adulthood ...?"

"I don't know," Zaknafein replied and shrugged, now looking up again. "He never talks about his past, about his life. He gets angry whenever I try to find out more about him. But no matter what his life was like, I don't see him as a man who forgives easily. He would think I betrayed him on purpose."

Jarlaxle smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting upwards. "Didn't you betray Drizzt on purpose? To save him the trouble of being betrayed by someone else? Don't you believe pain is better dealt out by loved ones than by strangers?"

"No, I didn't!" Zaknafein's eyes widened, but he looked almost frightened. "I didn't mean to, I was ... Maybe I was thinking that sometimes, but I never _wanted _to hurt him. It wasn't my fault, Jarlaxle! I'm not in control of myself when I am like that, I don't do _anything_ on purpose. But Drizzt forgave me for hurting him, for losing control. Artemis won't ... I don't want to hurt Artemis. This is different."

"Is it?" Jarlaxle displayed disbelief. "You aren't in a position of power over him, where he relies on you for answers to the same questions that have been plaguing him? He hasn't been close enough to you to feel the charge of your charisma and to want to be like you? Confident? In control?" Jarlaxle narrowed his eyes, and again, his shrewdness was apparent. "I think that either you come to terms with what happened to you with Drizzt, or you make the same mistake of thinking you own Artemis."

He sighed, and reclined, stretching his arms over his head. "No, I don't want to see you hurt Artemis. You are my friend, and I am his friend, too. I don't want to see things turn out a disaster. But, Zaknafein ... you have a knack for hurting people. You are elementally thoughtless."

"That's not true," Zaknafein objected and shook his head. "I think too much, I worry too much. And then ... then something happens that makes me so angry that I forget everything I have thought about." He looked positively desperate. "I do not think I own him. But I want to have him for myself ... I want him to be with me. Is that so wrong? I won't make the same mistakes. Artemis isn't Drizzt. Artemis isn't my son, I don't have to teach him anything. He's not innocent and inexperienced." He knew he wasn't making much sense, but he felt like he had to reassure himself.

"You do remember," Jarlaxle said. He leant forward, looking intently into Zak's eyes. "You do remember when you are angry, but it no longer matters to you. You come to feel in those heated moments as if he deserves your pain. You will not do the same thing to Artemis? How is Artemis different from your son? Your son wanted to place an exclusive claim on you, too. You became angry with him for that. It is what Artemis _wants_ that is the same. I saw your little tiff the other day. Artemis almost walked away from you forever. And why? Because you resented him for wanting the same thing you want: exclusive rights to his body." His voice pitched lower, and his eyes darkened. "The same thing you wanted from me. You wanted my body without paying for it in kind."

"I didn't know he would be angry. I had no idea what he expected from me. But there's a difference between my son and my lover. I need to believe that I won't make the same mistakes again."

Zaknafein tried desperately to defend himself. He stared at Jarlaxle with wide eyes, as if he wanted the mercenary to reassure him, to tell him that everything would be all right. Zaknafein wouldn't be able to forgive himself for hurting Artemis.

"You reject the teachings of Lolth, but you put at stake your entire relationship with Artemis on the basis of beliefs just as fantastical?" Jarlaxle demanded. "You are not immune to making the same mistakes again! You have already begun to repeat them! Telling Artemis that he isn't special by saying it will be easy to find a replacement. Foolish! Asking the very person you intend to seduce how to flirt with a barmaid. Stupid! You say you think too much: If that is so, you spend your time thinking about all the wrong things!" Jarlaxle swung a fist in the air, becoming impassioned enough to come out of his seat.

"I didn't say that he isn't special! But he rejected me! How can he reject me and be angry when I go with someone else? I don't understand him. At least I could understand Drizzt, I knew what he thought and wanted ... But Artemis confuses me. _That_ is why I am so afraid to hurt him." Zaknafein was still sitting on the bed, looking as miserable as he was feeling.

"He rejected you," Jarlaxle said coldly. "And you are the only one that should be immune to rejection? I came here to make sure you had your head on straight. Instead I find you harbouring the same childish resentments that made it impossible for me to - " He stopped, took a deep breath, and changed the subject back to him.

"You were at peace with hurting Drizzt because you knew he would forgive you, is that it?" Jarlaxle smirked bitterly. "You hurt me because I did the same. I forgave you whatever you did. The moment you find out Artemis is capable of forgiveness you are going to hurt him, because that won't stop him from being with you. Don't deny it, Zaknafein, I have you mired in your own words, this time. You think it's fun to cause pain. You may not want to _some of the time_, but sooner or later you will be in the mood."

"No, no ... You don't understand. I don't want to cause pain to those I care about. I didn't enjoy hurting you, or Drizzt. I hated myself every time I did that." Zaknafein was trembling now. He wished that Jarlaxle would shut up, that he would stop saying those things ... all the more so because they were true.

"Why do you tell me that it is hopeless? Why did you make me seduce Artemis if you think that I will hurt him? You believed that it would be all right, or you wouldn't have done this!"

Jarlaxle stamped his foot. "I thought a second chance at life would make you rethink some of your attitudes and make you start rethinking some of that rothe dung you feed yourself about being out of control and needing someone that forgives you for being insane so that you can act out your impulses of cruelty and still have friends afterwards. I think you know: you are perfectly capable of controlling yourself. You just don't _want_ to." For all of his genuine anger, his eyes were gleaming so brightly that it seemed tears stood in them.

"Oh, wonderful, now you blame me for what _they _did to me?!" Zaknafein was getting angry himself. He finally got up, walking over to Jarlaxle and glaring at him. "I _want_ to control myself. But after everything I have done in my life, am I not right to be worried about myself? You make it sound like I want to hurt him ... I don't. I want a second chance. _You_ are saying that it's hopeless."

Jarlaxle sighed deeply and turned away, shaking his head. He looked sad now rather than angry. Zaknafein shifted uncomfortably. Jarlaxle was once again confusing him - he had no idea what his meddling friend wanted him to do.

Jarlaxle suddenly looked at Zaknafein insecurely. "All the things I said were true. I wasn't accusing you. I was trying to help you. I was..." His voice trailed off and he sighed again. "...trying to help."

Zaknafein stepped closer, but he didn't touch him. Somehow, since his resurrection, Jarlaxle had become been so distant that the idea alone of touching him seemed awkward. "I don't know what Artemis wants from me. He is so confusing. Did you ever ... understand him?"

"I always understand him," Jarlaxle said, looking at him defensively. "You are the one that is confusing me. Not him. He is perfectly normal, especially for a human. He doesn't want to be controlled by you, Zaknafein. He wants to be friends with you. He doesn't want to be lied to, and he doesn't want to be pressured for sympathy. He doesn't like games."

Jarlaxle was silent for a moment and just looked Zaknafein deeply in the eyes.

"He wants to be with you because you seem as though you understand him. He sees similarities in himself and you. If you tell him you don't understand him, so help me -" Jarlaxle faltered, and then went ahead with his words. "If you say that to him, I'll send you back where you came from. Don't you dare toy with him that way."

Zaknafein scowled. "I don't toy with him, and I don't lie to him. I see those similarities, too, I told you so. But that doesn't mean that I know what he thinks. He likes to hand over control in bed, but he gets scared as soon as I get close to him emotionally. He hardly talks to me."

Maybe that was the main problem - Artemis was so different from Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle had always talked, back when they had been close friends, Jarlaxle had always shown his emotions in one way or another. Artemis remained a mystery, remained distant, and Zaknafein didn't know how to deal with that.

"Can you blame him?" Jarlaxle asked quietly. "You're not safe to be close to emotionally. I have more bruises than I dare count from you after I would let my guard down. He is only trying to protect himself. I brought you together because I thought that maybe his similarities to you would convince you to keep your temper in check the way he does. He is like you in almost every way, and yet he doesn't have to hurt the people he likes."

Jarlaxle jabbed an accusing finger at him. "And you're older. You should know more about getting close to people and being able to open up. I thought you would give him some slack. Instead you're trying to talk to him as you would to me. I relied on you to use common sense. I thought you at least had that."

Zaknafein snorted. "You've known me for four centuries and still don't know that I don't have common sense?" Zaknafein shook his head before he sat down on the bed.

"You are right - I kept my temper in check. I've rarely been as calm as I've been in the past few weeks. He makes me ... act that way. Nicer. Caring. Honest. I told him about Vierna and Drizzt, how I loved them. I wouldn't talk about that to anyone else, except you. He doesn't know I'm not safe. That's what I'm trying to tell you the whole time. That he doesn't know me, and that I'm afraid of what he will do once he knows."

"If he finds out, he will most assuredly kill you," Jarlaxle said flatly. "If you tell him, he may consider it more of an act of trust and redemption. If you're afraid of hurting him, tell him that."

"And lose him now instead of later?" Zaknafein laughed incredulously. "What should I tell him? 'Oh, Artemis, by the way, I'm insane, unpredictable, and I always hurt the people I care about'? Yes, I'm sure he would like to hear that. I'm sure he would shrug and say it doesn't matter. I _want_ to be who he thinks I am. I want to be good enough, for once in my life."

Zaknafein realised that there were tears in his eyes.

"Wanting doesn't count," Jarlaxle retorted, his voice trembling with emotion. "What counts is that if you fool yourself into thinking he'll never find out, you're wrong, and if you think that delaying until he sees a show of your temper is a good idea, you've got dung for brains! What happened to me being the unfair accuser, Zaknafein? I haven't spoken the truth, or I have. You either hurt everybody, or you don't. Which is it?"

"I don't know!" Zaknafein yelled, but he didn't sound angry, only desperate. "I don't know," he repeated more quietly, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know what to think anymore. I only know that if I lose him I'm not going to be even halfway sane ever again. And I thought that I could get away from my old life and give him what he deserves. But you're right, I'm fooling myself. What do you suggest I do? Tell him, and let him go?" He looked up again, his eyes now decidedly moist. "Do you think that you made a mistake? That I shouldn't be with him?"

Jarlaxle took him by the shoulders and shook him. "Tell him and stay with him! He's not going to want to leave you for admitting that you get angry sometimes and hurt people. It's an emotion he can understand. He's run his life by it. Someone as angry and bitter as Artemis won't accuse you for being just as angry and bitter. He's not going to want to lose you, because of some stupid, self-absorbed certainty that you shouldn't be with him!"

"You don't know that. You don't even know if he cares that much about me." Zaknafein's voice was trembling.

Jarlaxle softened, and moved up against him. "I know he cares. He would never let you have sex with him if he didn't care. It's not his way. He doesn't care about me, but he cares about you. Take faith in it. Just tell him."

"I've never been so afraid of making mistakes. I was fine in the past weeks, because I knew what I wanted. But now ..." Zaknafein rubbed his eyes. _Everything had been so perfect until Jarlaxle made me doubt again_, he tried to tell himself, but he didn't manage to blame his friend. Jarlaxle was right.

"Just tell him," Jarlaxle repeated. "Tell him how much you don't want to hurt him. He needs to hear how someone else cares for him. Just trust me. I wouldn't sabotage you. I wanted you to be here with Artemis, remember? I want this to end well."

Zaknafein didn't say anything. As much as he felt that he and Artemis had many things in common, the human's reactions surprised him so often. He couldn't imagine what Artemis would do if he told him that he cared about him, and that he always hurt those he cared about. He was afraid of taking that risk.

"I just don't want to fail," Zaknafein whispered after a while. "I failed you and Drizzt. Artemis is my last chance to do it right."

Jarlaxle allowed himself to feel as though that were an apology directed at him, and Zaknafein wouldn't do it again. He laid an arm around Zaknafein's shoulders and let himself take pleasure in his friend's closeness. "I know ... and if you don't take this last chance, you can come back to me. You don't have to feel as though no one will have you if Artemis won't. But Artemis ... he likes you so much that he's opened up more to you than he has to anyone else in years."

Zaknafein suddenly tensed up and stared at Jarlaxle. "What? But I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought that's why you were so distant since I came back, why you sent me away to be with Artemis. Because I had hurt you, I had failed. If that's not the case ... why do you give Artemis what you want for yourself?"

Jarlaxle looked awkward. "I don't want to ... Artemis needs you more than me." He didn't look sure of himself. He couldn't tell Zaknafein that, while he still liked him, he simply didn't want to open up again after Zaknafein had died. Jarlaxle didn't want any close friendship anymore, not if it meant making himself vulnerable. He preferred by now to remain distant and help his friends without getting too involved himself.

"I was being a good friend," he said finally.

"Drizzt needed me more than you, and you were always angry about that. But instead of taking advantage of a situation in which you could finally have me for yourself, you recreated a situation in which I would care more about someone else. Maybe you're just a good friend. Maybe I'm just such a bad friend that you wouldn't have me anymore."

Zaknafein looked at him sadly. "I don't want to be a bad friend for Artemis."

Jarlaxle drew back from him. "Then tell him what has bearing for him. Tell him what bothers you." He retreated, grabbed his goblet from the writing desk, and disappeared into a puff of smoke. When it cleared, he was gone.

Zaknafein wanted to reach out and hold him back. He needed Jarlaxle, he needed to talk to him! He had to get rid of those new doubts. But the mercenary was gone too quickly. Zaknafein sighed and sank back onto the bed. An hour ago he had hoped that Artemis would be back as quickly as possible; now he was almost terrified of seeing the human again. He had managed to conquer Artemis, but now he had to keep him. And so far Zaknafein hadn't wasted a single thought on how he was going to do that.

* * *

A/N: Oh ... I apologise for the length of this chapter. I'll try to make the next chapters more readable, and not this long. Unless you want me to. ;) Anyway, a big thank you to Chi for roleplaying Jarlaxle in this scene. I changed a few things later, but our roleplayed scene helped me a lot. And finally, someone asked me in a review to The Seduction of Innocence if these two stories were linked. For those who have read Seduction, the answer is no. In the background I use for Kindred Spirits Zaknafein did neither seduce nor rape Drizzt. Zak was a rather violent, unpredictable, volatile father, just like in canon, but their relationship wasn't sexual. I agree that it would be interesting to see how Artemis would react to knowing about the events in Seduction, but it would completely destroy his relationship with Zak. So, no, no link at all between these two stories.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

When Artemis came back to their room he dropped his bag on the floor, locked the door, and turned only then to Zaknafein. The drow was sitting on the bed, clad in his leather breeches and a half-buttoned shirt, as if someone had interrupted him while he had been undressing.

He glimpsed at Artemis for a moment, eyes moving quickly like those of an animal on the run, and turned his head away before the assassin could read his expression. Artemis furrowed his brow in confusion - he had seen Zaknafein angry and upset, but never crestfallen, not even when he had spoken about Vierna. Artemis came closer, warily, and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving as much distance between them as possible.

"Zaknafein?" he said when the drow remained silent. His voice sounded much calmer than he felt.

Zaknafein looked up, hesitated, licked his lips nervously, and eventually said, "Jarlaxle was here."

There was a finality in his voice as if that alone should explain everything. Artemis shifted uncomfortably. The mercenary was trouble, but what could he possibly have told Zaknafein to depress him so? Maybe something had happened to Drizzt? Artemis just raised a questioning eyebrow.

"He said I should tell you," the drow continued in a small voice. Zaknafein being shy and embarrassed was as strange as Jarlaxle trying to appear innocent.

"Tell me what?" Artemis said impatiently. The drow gave him a long, thoughtful look. Paradoxically Artemis' confused, edgy anger was less troubling than Jarlaxle's understanding smile or Drizzt's wide, innocent eyes. Artemis didn't make him feel guilty.

"About me … about me being insane and unpredictable and bound to hurt everyone I like although I don't mean to," Zaknafein said hurriedly, trying to get it over with. He accelerated even more when he added, "I don't want to make the same mistakes as with Jarlaxle and Drizzt."

He looked away and waited for Artemis to realise what this meant, to get angry, to snap at him. The assassin didn't react immediately, his mind only slowly catching up with the rattled words in a foreign language he still wasn't perfectly fluent in. When he was finally confident that Zaknafein had really said what Artemis thought he had said, he gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Are you seriously telling me that you are insane, as if that were some novelty I didn't know about?"

"But … I've been so calm since you've met me, you can't know -" Zaknafein started, dumbfounded.

"Zaknafein, you couldn't act sane if you tried to. Your eyes alone tell me that," Artemis snorted. "I've seen you kill that priestess, I've had you snap at me for no reason at all, I know what to expect from you."

He sounded much more confident than he really was. He couldn't deny that Zaknafein's instability worried him sometimes, but it certainly wasn't anything new. It was something he had realised in the first days of their acquaintance, and he had almost got used to it over the last weeks.

"No, you don't," Zaknafein whispered, again with that haunted look in his eyes. "I'm worse than that. I can't control myself sometimes … and then I do things I regret later."

"Oh, please, you managed to control yourself just fine so far!" Artemis snapped. He was deeply unsettled, not by what Zaknafein had said, but by the fact that he said it. It was almost as if Zaknafein was … _trusting_ him, or at least caring enough about this to be honest to the point of revealing his own fears. It was frightening, and the only thing Artemis could do to deal with it was to play it down.

"Maybe you were worse when you had to deal with Menzoberranzan and with all those priestesses. That's over now. End of story," he said curtly.

Zaknafein started to object again, but Artemis didn't let him.

"Do you _want_ me to get angry? I didn't let you start this just so you would weasel out of it as soon as your fears caught up with you. You were the one who told me not to run away as long as I was still winning."

Zaknafein didn't know what to say anymore. Anger and rejection were what he had expected, or even worse, pity. He definitely hadn't expected Artemis to accept it and tell him to get on with it.

The assassin cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, as if he was suddenly wondering if his words had been wise.

"You didn't seem all too worried about going mad and hurting me over the past weeks," he said. Zaknafein shrugged bashfully, and at the same time he relaxed visibly.

"I never thought about it. It didn't seem important at the time."

"But Jarlaxle reminded you," Artemis said darkly, his frown deepening even more when Zaknafein nodded. "That bastard. You should have known he's just messing with your head. Probably he was growing bored, once you … succeeded -" There was a short embarrassed pause before Artemis quickly continued, "I suppose we weren't entertaining enough anymore, so he just wanted to make you doubt and see how you would react, how I would react. Keep the show interesting."

"Sounds like him," Zaknafein admitted, but he shook his head. Artemis' eyes were gleaming with that confused mixture of emotions that seemed to replace the usual calm whenever the human allowed himself to give in to his feelings. There was anger, yes, there was always anger, but Zaknafein knew that it was directed at Jarlaxle, not at him. And when Artemis' eyes met Zaknafein's there was something more … some kind of longing, as if Artemis just wanted to hold on to what he had. Zaknafein knew that Artemis was even more uncomfortable with his feelings than him, but right now the human was trying to deal with them instead of running away.

"If there's one thing I understand, Zaknafein, it's anger. Maybe I would have made the same mistakes in your situation," he said. It was easier in a foreign language, especially in one that sounded as unsentimental as drow. He would have felt like a romantic fool saying those things in Common.

Zaknafein was amazed at how well Jarlaxle seemed indeed to understand Artemis. The assassin's word were an almost perfect echo to what the drow mercenary had said. _He's not going to want to leave you for admitting that you get angry sometimes and hurt people. It's an emotion he can understand. He's run his life by it._

"You're doing fine now," Zaknafein stated, much calmer now.

"So are you." Artemis shrugged. "Do you think last night would have happened if I even considered the possibility that you would suddenly attack me?"

Zaknafein couldn't help but smile, remembering how Artemis had given up every pretence of self-control last night. They had even slept in one bed … That someone as cautious as the assassin trusted him at least a little had to mean something.

"Aren't you worried at all?" he asked nonetheless.

Artemis almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. He considered not answering it, like he would have done only a few days ago. But after what had just happened he knew that he had to return Zaknafein's honesty.

"I am … _uneasy_ because I shouldn't even consider taking such a risk with you. But I'm not worried about you hurting me in a fit of anger. You understand me too well to believe that I would forgive you instead of hacking you into little pieces."

He could only hope that he had said the right thing. Zaknafein, once again, just stared at him. He was still thinking about what Jarlaxle had said. _He's not going to want to lose you, because of some stupid, self-absorbed certainty that you shouldn't be with him! You are perfectly capable of controlling yourself._

As much as Jarlaxle was a meddling, annoying bastard, sometimes he was right. So far he had always been right about Artemis, about them. He had known that what Artemis wanted was honesty, and that he would be able to deal with Zaknafein's admittedly difficult character. Unlike Drizzt and Jarlaxle, Artemis refused to be the victim of Zaknafein's warped affection.

_The moment you find out Artemis is capable of forgiveness you are going to hurt him, because that won't stop him from being with you._ But Artemis wasn't capable of forgiveness … and that was what made this insanity possible.

"Thank you," Zaknafein sighed. He knew that Artemis had no idea what he was being thanked for, but it didn't matter. It was enough that Zaknafein knew.

He rubbed his eyes, as if to make the strange dream of the past hours go away, and grinned at Artemis.

"Now, I promised you something, didn't I?" he asked in the same seductive, confident, slightly mad lilt as always, as if nothing had happened. Artemis blinked.

"After we sparred," Zaknafein explained and finally moved closer to Artemis. Without hesitating even for the slightest moment he started to unbuckle the assassin's leather vest.

"What, now?" was all Artemis managed to say.

"Why not? You just convinced me that I was worried about nothing. So why should I spend the rest of the evening brooding, knowing that brooding is what makes me go insane?" Zaknafein said lightly.

Artemis tried to glare, but eventually he just grinned.

"You're unbelievable, Zaknafein," he said with a suppressed chuckle. The look he gave Zaknafein was almost affectionate.

"I take that as a permission to go on."

Zaknafein was smirking, no, smiling, if not beaming. His mood swings again … as unsettling as they were Artemis was almost getting fond of them. One thing Zaknafein would not, could not be, was boring. And as much as Artemis hated it when he was incapable of predicting other people's behaviour, he liked it in Zaknafein. Being with the drow was a different challenge compared to anything Artemis had known until then. It was a challenge he deeply enjoyed, to his own surprise. It was … refreshing after the dull, painful emptiness of the past weeks.

Artemis didn't protest when Zaknafein's fingers resumed their work. The drow seemed to have precise plans about what he wanted: both their clothes were discarded after hardly more than a minute, and yet when Zaknafein kissed Artemis, it was soft, lingering, not impatient.

"Lie down on your stomach," Zaknafein instructed and disengaged from him. He smiled at Artemis' startled gaze. "I said I would do something about your tenseness, and I will."

Not sure what exactly Zaknafein was planning to do Artemis hesitated a little before he gave in and made himself comfortable, arms folded under his head, one cheek resting on his forearm. It was too late now to remember that it would be much more reasonable to distrust the drow.

Zaknafein sat down next to him, undisturbed by his own state of undress. He stretched his fingers and put them on Artemis' shoulders. His touch was light, probing as if he wanted to give the assassin time to get used to the still unfamiliar caresses. It was only when he felt Artemis relax a little under his hands that Zaknafein started to massage him.

A surprised groan left Artemis' lips when the strong, rough fingers began to knead the tense muscles in his shoulders, neck and upper arms. Zaknafein wasn't particularly gentle or considerate, and Artemis flinched more than once under the determinate touches. But the drow definitely knew what he was doing - his fingers left a cosy feeling of warmth in the tired muscles.

"When was the last time you got a massage?" Zaknafein asked after a while, his voice filled with disbelief. His fingers had moved on to Artemis' lower back by now, rubbing the well defined muscles on either side of his spine. For a drow noble - especially for a fighter - massages were an almost daily pleasure, as necessary as a bath. At least the richer ones - and House Do'Urden had been quite wealthy - had highly skilled massage slaves to take care of their masters' relaxation. It was one of the things Zaknafein missed most since he had come to the surface.

"Maybe a year? I don't know," Artemis mumbled, too comfortable to lift his head. It had been back in Calimport, with one of the expensive whores Artemis spent a night with every once in a while. But that had been before Jarlaxle had contacted him and brought him to Menzoberranzan for the first time, before his fight with Drizzt Do'Urden, before the flight to the surface. It had been months, probably, but Artemis felt as if it had been a lifetime. Lying there, with his back turned to an insane drow who was skilfully massaging the tenseness out of his muscular sides, Artemis wondered how much he must have changed since he had left Calimport.

"Humans," Zaknafein commented, and Artemis could almost hear him shake his head. His plan to retort was thwarted by Zaknafein's hands, which moved to his thigh now, in a surprisingly nonsexual way. Artemis groaned in protest when the drow's fingers squeezed his tense muscles, but just as before the pain dissipated quickly, leaving the muscle more relaxed than it had been in a long time.

Still, he grumbled, "Can't you be more careful?"

"Oh, stop complaining," Zaknafein snapped with fake annoyance and tweaked the other thigh.

"You did that on purpose," Artemis said and turned his head to look back over his shoulder. The drow was smirking, but it was a good-humoured smirk.

"I'd never," he commented with such an absurdly innocent look that it made Artemis chuckle. Somehow even chuckling felt better than before. Against all self-discipline a smile made its way to Artemis' lips. His eyes fell shut when the drow continued to work on his thigh, then on his calves. Eventually Zaknafein even massaged his feet, kneading knots out of muscles which, to Artemis' prior knowledge, couldn't really be cramped.

'Good' didn't even come close to how he felt when Zaknafein's fingers stopped moving, now resting lightly on Artemis' ankles. His whole body seemed slack, but not weak. Quite the contrary, his muscles felt more reliable than ever when he tensed his biceps tentatively. Yet Zaknafein didn't seem to have finished.

"Come here," the drow whispered, but he didn't give him enough time to react. Wrapping his arms around Artemis' waist he pulled him into an upright position, until the assassin was sitting with his back leaning against Zaknafein's chest. Artemis just put his head on Zaknafein's shoulder, too relaxed to realise how intimate a gesture it was, or that he didn't mind right now that Zaknafein was taller than him.

Apparently the drow still wasn't satisfied with the result: his fingers moved to Artemis' chest, massaging it thoroughly and then sliding to his stomach. Artemis made a pleased little noise that sounded unfamiliar even to himself.

Zaknafein's hands finally stopped on Artemis' hips, caressing the warm skin languidly. His hands hurt a little, but the assassin didn't need to know that.

"I'll probably regret this next time we spar," Zaknafein said with an exaggerated sigh. His lips brushed against Artemis' ear, and he felt the assassin's abdominals move under his hands when he chuckled.

"I still won't be able to defeat you," Artemis replied, but even saying it loud didn't make it hurt. Zaknafein besting him was somehow … acceptable. It didn't make him angry, or even uneasy. Artemis was vaguely fascinated by this: usually it took much less to anger him, since he was already a very angry man. The only time he had been angry at Zaknafein was when the drow had spent the night with that bar-maid. The effect the drow had on him was startling. Artemis was quick to interrupt his confusing thoughts by continuing to talk, "But I'll definitely make you sweat."

"And you want to wait until our next sparring match for that?" Zaknafein's voice had dropped to this seductive whisper which seemed to crawl under Artemis' skin, where it would vibrate even after the drow had fallen silent again. And yet he put his hands determinedly onto Zaknafein's, to keep him back in case the drow should try anything. He remembered all too well the previous night, which had been as passionate as it had been exhausting.

"I'm tired," Artemis said curtly, trying to keep the lust out of his voice. The journey, his own doubts, the confusing conversation with Zaknafein, and then this wonderfully relaxing massage had made him sleepy, and Artemis Entreri when he wanted to sleep could get quite grumpy.

"So am I," Zaknafein admitted and rubbed all the while his chest against Artemis' back. "We'll do it slowly."

Artemis gave him a doubtful look - Zaknafein 'doing it slowly' sounded about as believable as … Artemis Entreri relaxing in a drow's arms. He sighed and shook his head in resignation. He resisted the urge to say "I hate you", but only because he had said it too often to Drizzt. Zaknafein would have laughed at him anyway. The assassin just gave up and joined Zaknafein when the drow lay down on his side.

Their position hardly changed, with Zaknafein embracing Artemis from behind, nuzzling his neck while his legs rubbed against Artemis'. This time Zaknafein had taken precautions - a quick reach to his bag next to the bed produced a vial of odorous oil. Artemis didn't even flinch when slick fingers ventured to a more intimate place than before. He arched back into the touch and turned his head to lick over the drow's sensitive ear, drawing out a deep moan.

The sensible part of his brain, usually in full control over every single one of his actions, tried a last time to get through to him, to make him understand that surrendering so completely to Zaknafein was probably the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life. The voice of reason was silenced by the simple fact that Artemis had never felt as good as with Zaknafein. Not just because those long fingers and soft lips were working wonders, but because he felt truly _close_ to the drow. Artemis had always felt detached from other people, seeing them as useful, irrelevant, or dangerous, but never as possible companions. Zaknafein was maybe the first person who gave him this strangely enticing feeling of mutual understanding.

He wasn't really _thinking_ any of this, more feeling it, like a certain interior warmth when Zaknafein's embrace enveloped him.

* * *

"Don't move away."

The words were scarcely audible. Artemis' voice was quiet and tired, and his accented drow didn't help either. But Zaknafein knew what he wanted. He tightened his embrace and kissed Artemis' shoulder, not withdrawing.

"You won't be able to sleep like this," he whispered, his voice hardly more than a hot breath. His lips brushed again over the muscular, sweaty shoulder, enjoying the salty taste of Artemis' skin.

"Can sleep later," Artemis replied and put a possessive hand on Zaknafein's forearm. The drow didn't object, but simply nuzzled against him, face buried against his neck, the thick hair tickling his nose pleasantly. He gently pushed it aside to reach the skin of his neck and kiss it, breathing in the scent of sweat. It surprised him once again that it didn't make him think that Artemis was "filthy _iblith_", but that he actually liked it, the way he also liked the stubbly cheeks and the hair on the pale body.

Artemis closed his eyes and kept caressing Zaknafein's arm, not really conscious of what he was doing. He was so relaxed and comfortable that staying like this for the next days almost seemed like an idea worth considering. With Zaknafein holding him he didn't even feel vulnerable. It was only when he realised that he was starting to drift off that he stirred again. Right now Artemis had the impression that he could easily fall asleep in Zaknafein's arms - but he would probably panic as soon as he woke up and felt restrained by the drow.

Zaknafein grumbled unwillingly, but he complied with Artemis' silent request. He pulled back and rolled over to the other side of the bed, which felt unpleasantly cold. While Artemis turned around so he could see Zaknafein the drow grabbed the blanket and pulled it over himself, earning a lazy growl from the assassin who held on to it. Their eyes met for a moment, before they sighed almost simultaneously and moved closer to each other, still not touching, but at least close enough to share the blanket. Zaknafein smiled about the feigned annoyed look on Artemis' face, but the human had already closed his eyes again.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Artemis was used to going from deep sleep to being perfectly awake in a split second. He had trained himself to sleep lightly enough never to be surprised by anything or anyone, and it had saved his life more than once. But when he opened his eyes that morning after dozing comfortably for an hour he allowed himself to stay relaxed, still feeling sleepy.

"Awake again?" An amused, deep voice greeted him, close to his ear, vibrating in the strong chest Artemis' head was resting upon. The assassin growled and closed his eyes again.

One week since he had first fallen asleep in Zaknafein's arms, too exhausted and too comfortable to move. He had slept through the whole night since the drow hardly ever moved in his reverie, and although Artemis had flinched in confusion when he woke up and found himself so close to someone, he had been awake enough not to react violently.

One week, and he had already got so used to this that he would have felt surprised had he woken up without Zaknafein. He hardly minded foregoing one or two hours of sleep and replacing it with dozing, touching, often more when Zaknafein - too bored to keep lying still and wait for Artemis to wake up - broke his slumber with those dazzling hands. Just as he had done this morning, demanding some attention before they had both sunk back into this relaxed emptiness of mind. As self-disciplined as they both were, they didn't feel bad for this laziness in the evening, because they spent most of the night on the road.

Fortunately it was still too early for snow, although it had rained a few times - something that had filled Zaknafein with considerable suspicion and set him to grumbling the rest of the day. Artemis would have made fun of him if he didn't hate rain just as much. The cold bothered the both of them, Zaknafein even more than Artemis, but the assassin had to admit - only to himself, obviously - that he was quite grateful for the warm body next to his in the often cold tavern rooms.

"We should get up," Artemis said calmly, but he didn't move away. If he had allowed himself any introspection in that moment he would have realised that his reluctance to get out of bed was not simply born out of the laziness of a rainy autumn evening. Despite the rain and the cold they had travelled well over the past two weeks … and they would reach Waterdeep tonight. Artemis had known all the time where they were headed, but he had tried to ignore what it implied.

It seemed a long time ago since he had last seen Drizzt Do'Urden, just like most of his life before he had met Zaknafein seemed far away now, but the memories were still as vivid as they were painful. The smug, self-righteous expression in those purple eyes, in the melodic voice that sounded fortunately nothing like Zaknafein's. Artemis still felt as if someone reached into his chest and crushed his heart with bare hands whenever he thought of his defeat against Do'Urden. How the drow had humiliated him, always pretending that he didn't care who was the best, and yet not entirely able to hide his satisfaction when he beat the 'vile' assassin. Maybe things had changed - two weeks were not long, but Artemis had noticed himself how much he had learnt in those sparring matches against Zaknafein, and he and Drizzt had already been almost equals … Artemis almost slapped himself for that thought. He was over Do'Urden; he didn't need to prove his value to himself by beating that brat. And although he wanted to defeat him, his hatred for this self-declared hero wasn't worth the risk of Zaknafein's anger.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle nibbling on his ear. Artemis looked up, hesitating before he met Zaknafein's eyes. The drow seemed to understand, judging by the worried, uneasy look on his face.

"You really don't want to see him," Zaknafein said calmly, tightening his embrace when Artemis tensed as if to move away.

"I _won__'__t_ see him," Artemis replied testily. "I will bring you to this friend of his and I will leave you alone. That's all I agreed to do."

"You're going to avoid him for as long as we will stay there?" the drow asked doubtfully. He hadn't come all this way, after several decades, to talk to his son for a few hours and leave again. "I know you hate him, he probably hates you just as much, but -"

"How long will we stay there?" Artemis asked, his voice forcefully even. Sure, as long as they were in Waterdeep he wouldn't have to return to Menzoberranzan, but right now he wasn't sure if a whole bunch of normal drow was not preferable to Drizzt Do'Urden.

Zaknafein shrugged. "I'm not sure … I don't even know what will happen when I meet him again," the drow said, uncertainty in his eyes. He had still no idea what to expect. Drizzt had been hardly more than a child when Zaknafein had died, and decades had passed since then. He wondered how much of the Drizzt he had known was still left. It unsettled him that Drizzt hated Artemis, since Zaknafein saw himself as no better than the assassin.

Artemis snorted and wriggled out of Zaknafein's embrace, sitting up.

"This is none of his business," Artemis said coldly. "Tell him that Jarlaxle hired me to bring you here; I don't care. But not that we -"

He interrupted himself, unsure how to call what they shared. He just didn't want Drizzt Do'Urden to stick his nose into his private life, to judge him even more than he already did. Even like this he was worried that Zaknafein might listen to whatever lies Drizzt would tell him about Artemis. If Drizzt knew how close Zaknafein and Artemis were he would certainly try to pry them apart in order to 'protect' his father.

"He just wouldn't accept it," Artemis added and sighed. He had noticed by now, whenever Zaknafein talked about Drizzt, that he really cared about him, about what Drizzt would think about him. Artemis didn't presume that Zaknafein would value his opinion more than his son's. "He'd think that I will betray you, or use you to get at him, or whatever else he's going to make up in his self-centred little mind."

"I know you won't," Zaknafein said and shrugged. He sat up as well and ran his fingers over Artemis' cheek. "He doesn't know you like I do. Most people who know me would think I'm as incapable of affection as you."

"I doubt that you want to argue with him," Artemis said. "Just don't tell him."

His tone implied the "please" the assassin was too proud to say. Zaknafein seemed thoughtful, but then he nodded. While he still didn't know what exactly had happened between Drizzt and Artemis, he didn't want to spoil his reunion with Drizzt by a confession that a man who had tried to kill him more than once had become his father's closest confidant. It would be difficult enough to tell Drizzt that he didn't hate Artemis.

Zaknafein kept caressing Artemis' cheek, before his fingers moved down to his chin, gently touching the goatee. It had been surprisingly easy to convince Artemis - the assassin had apparently enjoyed the first massage Zaknafein had given him so much that the promise of getting one every day more than made up for letting his beard grow. And although Artemis had grumbled and complained that Zaknafein was blackmailing him, he had to admit to himself that the finely cut goatee actually looked good. No one would dare to say it, of course, but it was no secret that Artemis Entreri was, to a certain extent, a rather vain man. The fact that Zaknafein seemed to kiss him even more often now was an added advantage …

Artemis sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before he finally forced himself to get out of bed. He pretended not to see it, but he didn't miss the worried look on Zaknafein's face. Yet he wasn't sure how to deal with the drow's uneasiness, and if he was honest with himself his sadistic side almost hoped that Zaknafein would be disappointed by his son. He had got over his defeat against Do'Urden; he could learn to ignore the drow's existence just like he ignored the existence of other self-righteous, judgemental 'heroes'. But as much as it humiliated him, he knew that he wouldn't simply get over losing Zaknafein. While he told himself that Zaknafein was certainly not easy to influence, he knew as well that the drow had more reason to believe his trustworthy son than a human assassin he had known for less than two months.

"You could come along anyway," Zaknafein interrupted his brooding. Artemis forced himself to stay calm, knowing that the drow had to be quite nervous to ask for this.

"It wouldn't make things easier," he said while he picked up his discarded clothes from the floor. Feeling Zaknafein's almost disappointed look in his back he gave in. "If you insist … and depending on how long we'll stay … I can meet him later. I can't promise that I won't feel the urge to kill him, though. He has a talent for making me lose my temper."

Strangely enough those words actually managed to calm Zaknafein. He chuckled and got up, handing Artemis his shirt. Their eyes met for a second in the silent understanding they had shared since their first meetings. Neither of them smiled. They didn't need to.

* * *

A few hours later, close to midnight, Artemis and Zaknafein were walking down the almost empty street towards Deudermont's house in Waterdeep. The few people who were still outside in this rich part of the city crossed the street and hoped they would be left alone by the scowling Southerner and his completely hooded companion. On any other day Artemis would have smirked about their fearful looks and hushed voices.

They were both silent. Zaknafein was nervous, and Artemis was in a foul mood. He could only hope that he wouldn't so much as see Drizzt, or otherwise he would probably be tempted to kill him again. He could easily imagine the drow's attempt to convince Zaknafein that he was travelling with a bloodthirsty fiend and therefore in great danger. But when they stopped at the fence in front of Deudermont's house they could already see a slender figure sitting alone in the front garden. Artemis knew that he had still time to leave before Drizzt would notice them, but Zaknafein grabbed his wrist as if he had read his thoughts.

The Weapon Master let go almost immediately, but Artemis still didn't move. He wasn't sure what made him stay, but suddenly he didn't feel like leaving anymore. He was too curious, too worried about how this reunion would go to miss it. Some possessive part of him he had never known of didn't want them to be alone, as if it feared that Drizzt could somehow convince Zaknafein of what he thought about the assassin. He knew that it was unreasonable, just as his jealousy had been when Zaknafein had slept with that barmaid. And just like back then, he didn't care how unreasonable it was. He just wanted to slit the throat of anyone who dared to lay claim on his Zaknafein.

Artemis sighed when he noticed that Zaknafein wasn't about to do anything. The assassin made a few steps towards Drizzt, but was careful to stay at a safe distance. He forced himself to remove his own hands from the hilts of his weapons.

"Do'Urden," he called, his voice cold and even, just loud enough to be heard.

Drizzt jumped up and spun around, drawing his scimitars in the same movement. He had just been sitting there, watching the stars and thinking while Deudermont and Catti-Brie were visiting some of the captain's friends, but he would recognise this voice even in his deepest dreams. With his weapons still drawn, although not raised, he came towards the assassin. He noticed the hooded figure standing next to Entreri out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn't pay attention to the stranger - not with his greatest enemy standing in front of him.

"Entreri," Drizzt snapped when he reached them. "What are you doing here? I thought we had finally settled this."

To his surprise the assassin seemed annoyed rather than aggressive. His arms were folded in front of his chest - during their former meetings he had always drawn his weapons as soon as he saw Drizzt. He still glared at him with unveiled hatred, but he looked too relaxed for a man who expected a fight.

Instead of the well-known taunts and insults, he said simply, "I'm not here because I want to, Do'Urden. _He _is the one who wants to see you."

Before Drizzt could answer the assassin's companion pulled back his hood. The young drow gasped in disbelief and made a step backwards, his eyes darting to Entreri and then back to Zaknafein.

"Father?" he whispered, his voice failing him. He knew that it was impossible, and yet this drow looked exactly like Zaknafein. He had even the same expression in his dark red eyes, the same faint smile on his lips … Still, it was impossible, it had to be a trick, an illusion. "No, it can't be; my father is dead. Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Zaknafein frowned a little and made a few more steps towards Drizzt, who jumped back and raised his scimitars.

"Stop!"

Zaknafein was so confused that he actually did stop.

"Has the sun burnt out your eyes, Drizzt?" he said in a slightly annoyed voice. His reason told him that Drizzt was right to be suspicious, but Zaknafein was incredibly good at ignoring his reason. "You know who I am."

"What are you trying to prove?" Drizzt suddenly yelled at Entreri. "What kind of foul trickery is this? Who put you up to this? I know you possess the mask that can create for the wearer any likeness they please - but how could you know the face of my father? What do you hope to gain by torturing me like this?"

Artemis sighed. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and just shook his head in exasperation. It was better to let Zaknafein do the talking.

"Answer me!" When Entreri didn't, Drizzt turned his gaze to Zaknafein. He was almost panicking by now. "Who are you really?"

"Don't be an idiot. As if anyone could imitate me properly," Zaknafein replied. He ignored Drizzt's threatening look and the still raised scimitars and simply came closer - something even Artemis Entreri wouldn't have dared without his weapons in his hands.

Drizzt trembled as if he were trying to make his arms work and couldn't. His teeth were clenched hard. When he spoke, his voice was broken and choppy from emotion.

"You are a sham. I have seen my father die, and no illusion in the world could convince me that he is not dead. This is low, even for you, Entreri," he added with a hard look at the assassin. "Leave now-- both of you."

"Do I have to punch you, Drizzt?" Zaknafein wasn't sure if that had been the right thing to say. He was happy to see his son, he should hug him, not threaten to hit him ... He refused to think about it and just continued, "I could easily, your defence is sloppy. If I were an impostor I could have killed you already. I taught you better than that."

Drizzt dropped his scimitars, all emotion draining from his face.

"Father?" he whispered again, this time with hope rather than with confusion in his voice. He couldn't imagine anyone else saying that to him, not in this voice.

A smile finally found its way to Zaknafein's face. He felt almost happier than when he had found out that Drizzt hadn't killed the elf child. He gently put his hands on Drizzt's shoulders, so focused on his son that he didn't even notice the disbelieving stare Artemis was giving them.

Drizzt burst out with an amazed grin, his eyes threatening tears, "Father!" He threw his arms around Zaknafein. "I can't believe you're here. How is it even possible? I missed you so much ..."

Zaknafein returned the embrace, holding Drizzt tightly. He felt so overwhelmed with joy that he trembled, but it startled him that Drizzt kept speaking Common, even now that he recognised Zaknafein. He frowned again.

"Why don't you speak a civilised language?" he grumbled, but he didn't stop hugging Drizzt. He was suddenly relieved that his back was turned to Artemis - he could very well imagine the sardonic grin on the human's face.

"I'm sorry," Drizzt said in drow, as uncomfortable as he was with his native language. When he had returned to Menzoberranzan he had realised that he even had a slight accent in drow by now. "I forgot myself. I won't speak in Common again." He glanced at Entreri's expression and briefly scowled at him, as if to tell the assassin to mind his own business. "But how did you ever fall in with Artemis Entreri? Did he not tell you that he considers himself my greatest rival?"

Zaknafein smirked and made a step backwards, glancing at Artemis and then back at Drizzt.

"Your greatest rival? From what I've seen he could beat you. Even his drow is almost better than yours," he said and shrugged nonchalantly, although he knew that at least the second part wasn't true. This time it was good to know that Artemis was grinning. Zaknafein didn't give Drizzt time to answer and continued without missing a beat, "Jarlaxle ... hired him as my guide. I've never been to the surface before, and Artemis brought me here."

"You haven't even seen me in a proper fight," Drizzt protested anyway. "My mind was on other things!" Only then the next part of what Zaknafein said sank in. "Jarlaxle? Hired him as your guide? But neither Jarlaxle nor Entreri can be trusted! Whyever did you go along with them?"

"Of course I don't trust Jarlaxle; I'm not that insane," Zaknafein said and exchanged an amused smile with Artemis. "But I know him better than anyone else. As for Artemis ... he did his job, didn't he? And I had no choice if I wanted to see you."

Drizzt looked at the two of them uncertainly. "He didn't treat you poorly, did he? For if he did ..."

Zaknafein just stared at him in disbelief for a moment before he shook his head and started to laugh.

"As if he could," he chuckled, earning an annoyed, "Oh, shut up" from Artemis. To Drizzt's surprise, Zaknafein didn't even glare at him for that.

"I actually grew to like him," the drow said instead. The smile on his face became insecure. They had agreed not to tell Drizzt about their relationship, but Zaknafein was not going to pretend that he hated the assassin.

"Like him?" Drizzt echoed, looking as if he couldn't possibly have heard correctly. "Then he must have changed from the Entreri that I knew, for the man I was acquainted with had no redeeming or likeable qualities whatsoever."

"Neither do I," Zaknafein said and shrugged, but then he scowled. He had noticed the increasingly worried look on Artemis' face, and remembering his companion's reluctance to meet Drizzt at all he suggested, "Can we go inside? I feel uncomfortable here."

Drizzt put his hand on his father's arm. He took a deep breath and pushed away Zaknafein's startling words about Entreri.

"Of course we can, Zak. Please, come in. This house is a good friend of mine's. I am sure he will not mind a guest - especially such an important one, who has come such a long way." He began walking towards the door, and glanced over his shoulder at Entreri. "I still do not condone your actions, but I have to thank you for delivering my father safely. I do not know where you go from here, but I warn you that you must never show your face in these lands again."

"Since when do you have a say in that, Do'Urden?" Artemis snorted. His voice was as hostile as ever, but more mocking than openly aggressive. Zaknafein put a hand on Drizzt's forearm to hold him back and turned towards Artemis.

"He doesn't," Zaknafein said with an admonishing side glance at Drizzt. "I'll see you later at the inn."

"What?" Drizzt said, shocked. "What do you mean, you will see him later at some inn? I - aren't you staying? I thought you would stay, and meet my friends. Stay with me ... in my home …" His shoulders sagged. "You're leaving?"

"Of course I will stay for a while. I just ..." Zaknafein was searching for the right words. He didn't like to lie to Drizzt, but Artemis was probably right - it would be better if Drizzt didn't know how close they were. He could feel Artemis' warning glare even without looking at him. "Jarlaxle asked me to have an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't run off to Calimport or elsewhere. So, I'll stay with him at the inn, and I'll come to visit you ... Don't worry, you two won't have to meet again."

He gave Drizzt a halfway reassuring smile, and when he was sure that his son wouldn't notice he quickly signed 'I won't tell him' to Artemis, hoping that the assassin knew sign language well enough to understand. Even if he didn't, Artemis was apparently tired of seeing Drizzt, since he simply turned around and left. The almost pained look he gave Zaknafein before he turned around made the Weapon Master shiver for a moment.

Drizzt waited until Artemis was out of sight. Only then did he lead the way to the door and opened it for his father. Zaknafein followed him quietly, looking around, curiously and also with the obvious paranoia of every halfway sane drow. Human houses still made him feel out of place.

"Don't worry," Drizzt said. "This is a safe house. My friends are not in right now, so we have utmost privacy." He led his father to the room he had been inhabiting and shut the door. The house was considerably warmer than the outside. Zaknafein sighed in relief and took off his thick cloak and gloves.

Drizzt sat down on the bed and looked up at his father. He had usually seen him only in infravision back in Menzoberranzan, and that had been so long ago. He had forgotten the grim expression on Zaknafein's beautiful face whenever the Weapon Master wasn't smiling. He had forgotten the hard, uncompromising glimmer in his dark red eyes. Until now Drizzt had also never realised that he looked nothing like his father. The light showed him that even Zaknafein's skin was slightly darker than his son's.

It was, however, a relief to see him in new armour - drow-made, but without even the tiniest spider ornament. Drizzt could very well understand that his father would refuse to wear the symbol of that vile Spider Queen ever again. His hair was untied and not worn in the traditional ponytail most Weapon Masters preferred. For Drizzt this was another sign that Zaknafein had finally left Menzoberranzan behind.

Therefore it puzzled him all the more that his father still had to deal with the likes of Entreri and Jarlaxle. Drizzt motioned for Zaknafein to sit down with him.

"Why are you really staying with Artemis Entreri at the inn? What does Jarlaxle want with Entreri?"

"How should I know what Jarlaxle wants? Sometimes I doubt that he knows it himself." Zaknafein smiled a little, but it looked almost sad. "I suppose that he wants to keep Artemis as some kind of partner. He is a good fighter, especially for a human, and he's intelligent, efficient, experienced. Useful."

It was the first time Drizzt heard Zaknafein make a positive comment about anyone but himself.

"Violent, bad tempered, and morally bankrupt," Drizzt added, scowling. "Prideful, cold, hateful ... alone and satisfied with that decision! He has no one, not even himself! He is an empty shell that does nothing but kill."

"You don't know him, Drizzt," Zaknafein sighed. "I don't blame you; he never let you see anything else in him. And most of what you've said about him describes me just as well."

"No, it doesn't!" Drizzt flung his arms around Zaknafein. This wasn't how he would have imagined a reunion with his father. So many things Zaknafein said felt simply wrong, not at all like he remembered his beloved father … and at the same time there was no doubt left that this was really Zaknafein. "You have good morals inside - better than most drow and some humans! It's true that you're prideful, but you're not cold. You pretend to be because it's the drow way. You don't go around harming random people. You would never kill an unarmed, defenceless person. Artemis Entreri has done that! Why do you say such things?"

"I was more violent to my students than Artemis has ever been to anyone. He kills, yes, but not randomly or violently. Our principles are quite similar ... I see myself when I look at him." He didn't push Drizzt away, but neither did he manage to look at him now. He would have laughed at the absurdity of Drizzt's words, but it was too painful that his son knew him so badly.

"Because he is what we could have become if we had given up our principles!" Drizzt said, his eyes wide. "He's a mirror that shows us what could have been, not what is. We are nothing like him."

Zaknafein sighed and gave up. It was not as if he wanted to convince Drizzt that he was a bad person, after all. It simply felt wrong that Drizzt condemned Artemis for flaws that were even more prominent in Zaknafein.

"I've heard about your ... rivalry with Artemis, about what has happened. I don't expect you to forget about that and forgive him," he said, eyes meeting Drizzt's again. "But I've spent most my time with him for over a month now, and the man I've met is ... someone I can relate to. I feel better when I'm with him."

"I do believe you," Drizzt said forlornly. "But I don't understand."

"I know. You never had the opportunity to ... know him like I do."

Drizzt sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "You keep saying that. As if you had some intimate knowledge of what he is thinking. He is an assassin. He doesn't confide in people. How can you think you know anything about him? And even if _you_ do like him, _he_ truly does not have the capacity to put faith in other people. He's devoid of trust or compassion, of any feeling at all! His whole life is empty."

"It's difficult to explain, Drizzt. We just ... understand each other, in a strange way." Zaknafein looked embarrassed. "He usually doesn't confide in people, but neither do I. Yes, he is an assassin ... but what I did for four hundred years wasn't that different. I killed, and I trained others to kill. We both did it because it was our job. If you condemn him you would have to condemn me as well."

It was Drizzt's turn to be embarrassed. He had thought that himself sometimes, but he had written countless diary entries convincing himself that it was different. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of all the arguments he had come up with.

"Do not make the mistake to think that he did what he did because he had to. He is not the same as you are. He had a choice you never had. He isn't threatened to be killed or tortured if he doesn't kill others, like you were. He merely makes money out of it."

"I did not become Weapon Master because I had to survive, but because I wanted to be the best ... at any cost." Zaknafein realised that he was maybe saying too much, and the innocent trust in Drizzt's eyes almost hurt him, made him feel like he didn't deserve it. "I don't know about Artemis' past. I just don't see why I should judge him for doing the same as me."

"_Artemis?_" Drizzt frowned. It had been irritating him all the time that Zaknafein was constantly using the assassin's first name. "Why do you keep calling him that?"

"Because that's his name?" Zaknafein replied, feigning ignorance.

Drizzt wrinkled his nose. "Artemis _Entreri _is his name, father."

"He calls me Zaknafein." The older drow shrugged as if that explained everything.

"But it is different here on the surface. His last name isn't a meaningless house name, but a family name. It's _his_ name. But Entreri cannot call you anything but Zaknafein because that is the only true name you have; it is not just your house's."

"No, Drizzt, he would call me Do'Urden if it weren't for the fact that he uses that name for you. And as I said, we understand each other; we don't need formalities. He doesn't mind me calling him Artemis, so why do you?"

Drizzt shifted uncomfortably. "It just implies familiarity, that's all. And familiarity with that sort of man is always a bad thing."

"I felt familiarity with him since the first time we spoke to each other," Zaknafein replied. He put his arm back around Drizzt's shoulders, as if that could take away the sting of his words. "And even if I'm wrong about him ... I can take care of myself, Drizzt. I'm still a far better fighter than you or Artemis."

"I know, Zak." Drizzt hesitated. "It's just … I don't even know how you have been brought back to me, and you keep talking about Entreri like that, as if he was your friend. Even if he managed to appear likeable to you, it's a trick; he just did it to provoke me. He's using you to make me angry. I don't know what he's up to, but maybe he wants me to attack him so that he can claim that I'm the aggressor."

He interpreted Zaknafein's silence as a sign that his father was thinking about his words, but in truth Zaknafein was just amazed that Drizzt had said exactly what Artemis had foreseen. While he was still trying to find a neutral way of telling Drizzt that he had no idea what he was talking about, the younger drow already continued, "I want you to stay with me, Father."

"I told you, I'm not going to leave right away," Zaknafein replied, still a bit beside himself. "I've wanted to see you since the day I was resurrected - Jarlaxle is behind that, by the way, although I am unsure of his motives. But I ... I won't stay on the surface forever, if that's what you mean."

Drizzt jerked away, startled. "What do you mean? You are finally here! After those long years of being too afraid to go, you are now here, where there is safety and happiness! Even if you have to deliver Entreri back to Jarlaxle, I thought you would stay with me afterwards. Why would you want to go back to Menzoberranzan? The priestesses are there, the drow you have always despised! Why would you come back to life only to die again in a city you hate? Don't go back there."

"Safety and happiness? The only reason I could get here without problems is that Artemis made sure we were left alone. Most humans are loud, smelly, and barbaric. The sun is unbearable, and the cold is almost worse. I always hated Menzoberranzan, but I hate the surface more. Why in the Abyss should I stay here? I'm not part of any house anymore. If I go back to Menzoberranzan, I'll work for Bregan D'aerthe, and Jarlaxle doesn't allow females in his band. I'll be all right."

"But you would have to work for him, and he would send you into danger. Please, please don't go back there," Drizzt begged. He knew his eyes were moist, but he kept his tears back. Somehow he felt that this Zaknafein, the real Zaknafein, not the one from his memories, wouldn't approve of tears.

"Of course I will work for him," Zaknafein said. "I need something to do anyway. Now will you stop worrying about me? I am quite capable of taking care of myself. And stop shivering like a faerie, Drizzt. I'm fine. I'm alive, and as free as I can ever be."

Drizzt, chastened, took a deep breath. His lower lip still trembled, but he held his chin firm. He had forgotten how dominant his father was, how - and Drizzt hated himself for the thought - _drow_ he was.

"I should let you return to the inn," Drizzt said hesitantly. "If you are supposed to keep an eye on Entreri for Jarlaxle, it is not good to leave him to his own devices. Entreri is a dangerous man, and Jarlaxle is a bad enemy to make."

"Jarlaxle will never be my enemy. I destroyed one of his hats and he didn't kill me; that means that he'll forgive me anything," Zaknafein replied with a grin, but his lame attempt to lighten the mood failed. He sighed and added in a more serious voice, "I have time, Drizzt. We can talk the whole night... and see each other again during the next days. I don't have to be around him all the time; I'm just not supposed to send him away."

Drizzt stared at his hands. Somehow he had a bad feeling about Zaknafein and Entreri, as if there was something more than what his father told him. But their reunion was already difficult enough as it was without Drizzt accusing Zaknafein of not telling the truth. If Zaknafein really stayed for at least a few days, Drizzt would have enough time to find out what this was all about.

"Why don't you tell me more about how you came to the surface?" Zaknafein asked, eager to talk about something else. What Jarlaxle had told him about Drizzt's new life and friends had sounded so unfamiliar, so bewildering. It was so different from the life Zaknafein had known, from the only life he could imagine. This and even more significantly their conversation now only showed him how much Drizzt had changed over the past decades, and Zaknafein wasn't so sure anymore what he should think about his son. As happy as he was to see him alive and well, he felt as if there was a huge wall between them. He could only hope that it would all make more sense if Drizzt explained it.

Drizzt smiled, as if he was relieved that Zaknafein finally asked. He was definitely more comfortable talking about his own life than about his father's familiarity with Entreri. Maybe he would manage to convince Zaknafein to stay; after all, if he told him about all the good things that had happened to him on the surface … But he would also make sure to mention the bad things, especially what Entreri had done to him and his friends. It had to be some kind of misunderstanding, or rather a clever ruse to deceive Zaknafein, for there was no way that his father could actually like Entreri. Not after Drizzt told him what kind of a man the assassin really was.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

The sun was already rising when Zaknafein sneaked back into the tavern room they had rented earlier that night. No sound except for slow, regular breathing came from the bed, and the drow would have thought that Artemis was asleep if he didn't know better. Zaknafein slipped out of his clothes and under the blanket. He was cold, but he didn't dare to touch Artemis. Somehow he wasn't sure if the assassin would let him.

"I didn't expect you to come back," Artemis said, his back turned to Zaknafein. He sounded surprisingly awake, as if he hadn't slept at all, but at the same time quiet and almost uncaring.

Zaknafein flinched in surprise. There was no sarcasm in Artemis' voice, and the thought that the assassin really meant his words made him shiver. He didn't know what to say, so he remained silent, waiting for Artemis to explain himself.

"You seemed so elated to see your son," Artemis continued when there was no reply. Suddenly the usual sarcasm was back, but it was obvious to Zaknafein that Artemis was just trying to hide how worried he had been. "I assumed that you would want to stay with him rather than with me."

The drow growled and grabbed Artemis' shoulder, forcefully turning him around to look into his eyes. Artemis tried to glare at him, but it was only a half-hearted attempt. It surprised Zaknafein to see how vulnerable the usually so confident assassin looked. Fighting down his anger Zaknafein took a deep breath and softened his grasp on Artemis' shoulder, letting his hand rest there.

"He said exactly what you told me he'd say." Zaknafein made a pause, his eyes never leaving Artemis'. "It doesn't change anything about us."

Artemis tensed at first, but then he nodded and turned fully towards Zaknafein. The drow was by now quite capable of reading Artemis' often hidden invitations and moved into the offered embrace. Resting his head against the human's chest he sighed.

"It was … strange," he said, not quite sure where to start, not even sure if Artemis wanted to hear about it at all. But the assassin remained silent instead of snapping at him, and Zaknafein knew that was all the encouragement he would get. "I'm glad to see that he hasn't lost his principles, but he confuses me. He talks, he behaves like a human. A normal human," he quickly added before Artemis could object. "All this excitement about the surface and his friends … I just don't understand him."

Artemis snorted, but he tightened his embrace in what could only be described as a possessive gesture.

"I would be surprised if you did. I told you you're nothing like him."

Not wanting to confirm nor deny that, Zaknafein simply said, "He was quite appalled that I won't stay with him on the surface."

Artemis couldn't help but snicker. He almost laughed out loud when Zaknafein gave him a questioning glance.

"I'm just trying to imagine you behaving like Drizzt, living his life," the assassin explained with a smirk. He snickered even more when Zaknafein punched him lightly in the side. The drow decided to go for a more direct approach to shut him up and kissed him, relieved when Artemis didn't push him away. Zaknafein's face grew serious again when their lips parted, and he settled back into Artemis' arms.

"He doesn't approve of me liking you either," he continued and made a face. "As if I needed my son's approval. He almost fell over when I said I liked you; he probably would have died if I had told him all about us."

"That would almost be worth it," Artemis said dryly. Zaknafein wanted to glare at him and ended up grinning. It was such a drow thing to say … and after several hours of Drizzt's confusing babbling Artemis' words sounded like home. Like he had said to Drizzt, as much as he hated his home, he hated this place even more. In the years before his death the words 'drow' and 'Menzoberranzan' had stood for everything he despised; now they seemed oddly reassuring compared to the strange world he had come to. He shouldn't be surprised that he felt more at ease around Artemis than around Drizzt.

"Don't get me wrong," Zaknafein said after a while. "I am glad to see him, I'm glad that he escaped Menzoberranzan and found a place he prefers. It doesn't mean I understand his choices. Just like he wouldn't understand mine."

He ran his fingers through a wayward strand of Artemis' hair that had escaped the hair tie when the assassin had lain down.

"He offered me to stay at his friend's house." Zaknafein smirked when Artemis started to frown, and didn't give him enough time to say anything. "Don't worry. Since I insisted that I had to keep an eye on you for Jarlaxle he extended that invitation to you."

Artemis couldn't have been more surprised if Gromph Baenre had asked him to come over for a cup of tea. The astonished look on his face made Zaknafein laugh.

"Believe me, he almost choked on his own tongue saying that. But apparently he wants me to stay with him so badly that he'd even put up with your presence. Provided that I keep you from 'harming his friends'."

"What about harming him?" Artemis asked nonchalantly, unsurprisingly earning a glare from Zaknafein.

"I'm serious, Artemis. I want to spend time with him … and I want to have you around. It's not like you'll have to see him often, you will just sleep there like you would sleep in an inn."

"How are you going to explain to him that we share a bedroom?" Artemis asked sceptically, but Zaknafein knew that the question alone implied that the assassin was at least considering it.

"Apparently the house has a guest suite with two bedrooms." Zaknafein shrugged. "And although he is a curious brat, I doubt that he will check if we really use both of them. He was quite adamant about it. I would hate to disappoint him even more after I already told him that I will return to Menzoberranzan."

Artemis was quiet for a few minutes, alternately staring at the wall and looking at Zaknafein. Finally he just grumbled, "You owe me for this."

"I'm all yours," Zaknafein whispered huskily, but with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Artemis couldn't refrain from glancing at Zaknafein's bare chest, and he was almost tempted to let the issue rest for the time being and simply kiss the drow. In moments like this one it frightened him how much he desired Zaknafein, how much he wanted to be with him … and he couldn't help but wonder how far he would go to make sure the drow stayed with him. Gathering his self-control he looked back into Zaknafein's eyes, his serious glare quenching the lust he found there.

"What?" Zaknafein sounded impatient and at the same time worried. They sat up almost simultaneously, even as they were fleeing the other's embrace acting as if their thoughts were the same. Artemis found himself incapable of meeting Zaknafein's eyes again. He had to ask, and yet he was afraid to hear the answer.

"You told him that you would return to Menzoberranzan," he said quietly.

Zaknafein just shrugged, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nobody can expect me to stay on the surface, not even him."

"I do." Artemis had intended to snap those words, to sound angry, uncompromising. But the voice that came out of his mouth sounded pleading, helpless, completely unlike his own.

"You would stay here on the surface? Why? You're nothing like these weak humans. Nothing can challenge you here, and you told me yourself that the main reason for your rivalry with Drizzt was your desperate need to find a challenge again. How can it be satisfying to be the best when your competition is _this_!" Zaknafein made a vague gesture towards the window and the damped noise of the humans on the street.

"It isn't," Artemis said calmly. He couldn't be angry at Zaknafein for trying to understand him, for saying exactly what Artemis had felt for the past months, if not years. That his life had become boring, pointless, empty. "But I'd rather rot here than go to a place where all my skill counts for nothing, where I could be the best and still be considered _iblith _by everyone except you and Jarlaxle. I will not return with you to Menzoberranzan."

There was a frightening finality in his words that struck Zaknafein more deeply than any yelling could have.

"I don't want to leave you," Zaknafein said softly. He caressed Artemis' cheek, and while the determination in the grey eyes didn't waver, the assassin moved slightly against the hand. "I can live with seeing Drizzt only rarely, but not you … I want … need to be with you." His voice failed him for a second. "But I can't live on the surface any more than you can live in Menzoberranzan."

Artemis nodded. They didn't need any more words to know what the other felt and thought, but even their mutual understanding hardly helped them now.

"We could work as mercenaries … There are regions where nobody cares what you are as long as you get the job done. Where even we could find a challenge or two," Artemis suggested, but he knew that it was not what Zaknafein wanted. The drow hated everything about the surface, the sun, the weather, the noise, the population … Giving him something to do would not change that.

Seeing that Artemis realised this himself Zaknafein did not bother to reply, but simply embraced him and held him tight. It reassured him to feel the human nuzzle his chest, and the certainty that they both _wanted_ to stay together was at least a small comfort. Neither of them had even the tiniest romantic streak, and yet they were confident that they would overcome this problem. For Artemis as well as for Zaknafein, fighting surroundings that were against them was as natural as breathing. Personal matters were much more complicated. As long as they got along so well, as long as they were determined to stay together, they would deal with unfavourable circumstances, just like they always had.

"You have no reason to worry yet. I don't plan on leaving any time soon," Zaknafein said after a long silence. "You should be happy about that."

"Remind me of thanking Do'Urden when I see him," Artemis snorted, quite grateful that he didn't have to pursue the issue further, at least not now. It was enough that Zaknafein would keep it in mind instead of assuming that Artemis would follow him everywhere.

The drow chuckled and rubbed his cheek against Artemis', enjoying the feeling of stubble against his smooth skin. If everything else failed, he thought, Jarlaxle probably already had a solution in store for them. Zaknafein wasn't sure if that should reassure or unsettle him.

* * *

Kimmuriel was lounging on the cushioned chair in Rai'gy's office, one leg thrown over the armrest, his whole posture speaking of confidence and ease. He looked like a man who knew that few would dare to go against him - and that those who did would regret it soon enough.

He was casually glancing at Rai'gy and Berg'inyon, who were standing nearby, leaning over a strategic map on the mage's desk. The psionicist vaguely followed their conversation, quite capable of listening to their plans and following his own thoughts at the same time. Berg'inyon was just explaining a few tactical battle details to his fellow lieutenant when Kimmuriel, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly spoke up.

"Jarlaxle didn't say anything about Zaknafein's son."

Both Rai'gy and Berg'inyon looked up, frowning slightly at Kimmuriel's quite annoying habit of assuming that others could follow his train of thought as effortlessly as he theirs - he had grown up in a house full of mind readers, after all. Kimmuriel made an irritated gesture with his right hand, frustrated that he always had to explain himself more.

"He explicitly forbade us to harm both Zaknafein Do'Urden and his precious little _iblith_, and I agree that it would be unwise to defy his orders so openly," he explained, his smooth voice beautiful in its coldness. "Since Zaknafein did seem quite attached to his son, however …"

He didn't have to finish the sentence. Understanding lit both Rai'gy's and Berg'inyon's face, followed by smiles full of cruel anticipation.

"We can hardly be blamed for his incomplete orders," Rai'gy said, the map in front of him forgotten. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

He walked over to Kimmuriel, who still hadn't moved, and ran his fingers through the psionicist's hair. Kimmuriel was truly a rare beauty, even for a drow, and a kindred spirit on top of that. Rai'gy had already started to wonder how he had ever managed to do without the intelligent, ruthless psionicist who made most matron mothers look like naïve little girls.

"I haven't decided yet," Kimmuriel drawled, moving against Rai'gy's hand like a predator feline who had decided to appear tame for the moment. "Maybe it is time for us to remind him what it means to be drow. Is he as pretty as his father?"

The question was directed at Berg'inyon, who smirked broadly. His rivalry with Drizzt Do'Urden went back to their shared Academy time, and the young Baenre had never got over his failure to defeat him back then. He would certainly appreciate an opportunity to get back at him.

"Prettier. I will insist on joining you when you go to see him."

The smile on Kimmuriel's face turned from cold to mocking.

"Yes, I believe Do'Urden was first of your class, wasn't he? Quite a humiliation for a Baenre," he observed almost neutrally. Rai'gy smirked, even more so when Berg'inyon's hands twitched. But the fighter knew better than to draw his swords - words worked better on Kimmuriel anyway.

"No more than for a drow to be rejected because the object of his desire prefers an _iblith_," he spat back. Kimmuriel's smile vanished, but before he could say anything Rai'gy's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Are you done soon? You can continue this bickering after we have decided what to do with this heretic's son … His flaws are, after all, even greater than those of his worthless sire," the priest said.

Deciding that he could deal with the insolent fighter later Kimmuriel nodded and leant back, his eyes unfocused. His gaze was turned inwards, at his quite vivid imagination. He preferred more subtle torments than mere physical pain. Flesh was so easy to hurt, there was no challenge in whipping, cutting, burning someone. Every brute with the right tools could inflict pain, and although Kimmuriel enjoyed coming up with creative methods of torture, wounding the mind appealed much more to him. A strong-willed person could cope with physical pain, but a wound that was torn right into their mind, their soul, their pride would fester so much more beautifully. To Kimmuriel Oblodra, nothing was as gratifying as humiliating an enemy to the core of their being.

"Tell me about this Drizzt Do'Urden," he said after a while, looking up at Berg'inyon.

The fighter, who was not all that keen on a serious conflict with Kimmuriel, was quite eager to tell him all he needed to know …

* * *

Jarlaxle's face turned more and more thoughtful as he listened to his scheming lieutenants. One didn't stay leader of a drow organisation by trusting one's subordinates, and Jarlaxle had turned spying on his lieutenants into an art. They would probably panic if they had any idea how much he knew about them.

Currently he was using magical gems, woven into the fabric of the robes he had given to Rai'gy - they didn't provide him with images, and were therefore less easily detected, but he could hear their conversation as clearly as if he were standing in the same room.

He wasn't even remotely shocked, or even surprised, by their plans. On the contrary, he would have been quite disappointed if Kimmuriel hadn't detected the loophole in his orders. After all, there was nothing as amusing as watching the psionicist try to outthink him.

To be frank, Jarlaxle didn't care much about Drizzt Do'Urden. He didn't dislike him, but neither did he feel the same sympathy and esteem for Drizzt that linked him to Zaknafein. He hadn't helped Drizzt to escape Menzoberranzan because he liked him, but because he had felt that he owed it to Zaknafein. And while he couldn't care less if Kimmuriel had his way with Drizzt, he did care quite a bit about what this would mean for Zaknafein, for his friend.

It was actually quite easy. Jarlaxle did not want Zaknafein to get hurt. He wanted Kimmuriel and Rai'gy to scheme and plot, because it kept them busy, but he did not want them to succeed. On the other hand, he couldn't interfere directly either. If he did, he would admit that he had forgotten to include Drizzt into his orders, he would imply that Drizzt - and as a consequence Zaknafein - couldn't take care of himself, and, most importantly, he'd ruin all the fun.

Deactivating the scrying device when the lieutenants' conversation returned to its previous topic, Jarlaxle started to do some plotting himself. How to protect Drizzt and ultimately Zaknafein without humiliating his friend, while, possibly, turning this little problem into profit?

He didn't need to spy on them to know that Artemis hated Menzoberranzan as much as Zaknafein hated the surface, and Jarlaxle couldn't risk that his careful matchmaking ultimately failed because of such a triviality. He needed a way of keeping them together until the very thought of being separated became unacceptable. Preferably, that meant getting Artemis back to Menzoberranzan. Jarlaxle hadn't resurrected Zaknafein to let him run loose on the surface, and Artemis Entreri would be an equally valuable asset to Bregan D'aerthe. But how would Drizzt fit into his plans?

A frown deepened on his forehead, he started pacing in his office, switched his eye-patch several times from one eye to the other, ran his hand over his bald head as if that would assist his thinking, until finally a manic grin broke out on his face.

He chuckled and silently congratulated himself on another stroke of genius. Sitting back down on his chair he turned his attention back to the reports on his desk. The grin didn't leave his face for quite a while, though.

They were all in for a big surprise. His plan would probably make them all want to kill him, for various reasons, but Jarlaxle knew it was ultimately for their own good. Besides, it would definitely be fun.


End file.
